


Friends Don't

by tmylm



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Friends to Lovers, friends don't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-05-14 07:53:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 42,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19268950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tmylm/pseuds/tmylm
Summary: Beca and Chloe are just friends... Right?





	1. Beca

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for the [prompt](http://snowbritt.tumblr.com/tagged/fdp), whoever sent this! I have had so much fun coming up with ideas for this fic.
> 
> [Here's the song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XGmJMvnDZEg) for anybody who wants to listen. 
> 
> Finally, you can find my tumblr linked with the prompt up above for any questions, comments or suggestions. I hope you enjoy!

“And that, my fellow graduates, is why we are not going to look at this as a final goodbye, because it will never really _be_ a goodbye. We are Bellas for life, even after we hand over those keys and go our separate ways. You are my friends, my sisters, my Bellas. You’re my family.”

As Aubrey raises her champagne flute, emotions written plain as day all over her perfectly made up face, Beca cannot help but at least _want_ to roll her eyes. Mostly because that seems easier than letting the tears currently welling up in them spill over her lids. Beca doesn’t cry. She just doesn’t.

“You tearing up there, babe?”

Apparently, her boyfriend knows her better than that.

The familiar feeling of short stubble scratches at the side of her face as Jesse whispers softly in Beca’s ear, his lips pressing soothingly against her pale skin.

Beca shoots him a playful glare as she turns her face toward him, neither shaking nor nodding her head. The way her blue eyes are glistening is answer enough for the both of them, anyway.

“It’s okay,” Jesse soothes reassuringly, his fingers raising to twirl delicately through the ends of Beca’s neatly curled hair. She feels his rough skin, calloused from the strings of his guitar, brush against her bare shoulder, and Beca notes that the feeling is almost comfortably familiar.

College isn’t the only thing Beca will be saying goodbye to now that graduation has arrived. She is headed out to LA soon, while Jesse has just landed himself his dream job scoring low-budget movies out in _Maine_ , of all places. They will _literally_ be at other ends of the country. But they’ll make it work. They’re strong enough, Beca thinks.

No, she knows it. They’re strong enough.

“Can you stop?”

The same cannot be said for every couple, of course.

The voice breaking into Beca’s thoughts, into the way she is gazing longingly at her boyfriend, is even more familiar than his. It is hushed, though not quite enough, and Beca knows that she is witnessing the start of a fight. In fact, it is likely not even the beginning; it is probable that it is a continued fight from earlier in the day. Beca doesn’t want to stare, but she finds herself glancing almost protectively over in Chloe’s direction, just in time to see Kyle rising from his seat. Dutifully, Chloe’s hand reaches for his.

“Kyle, seriously,” Chloe hisses quietly, pushing herself upright now, too.

This isn’t anything out of the ordinary, especially as of late. In Beca’s opinion, Chloe and her boyfriend have never really had the most functional relationship. They both have big personalities, they butt heads a lot. There is of course a lot of love there, too. But, in Beca’s humble opinion, it is not enough. Chloe deserves more than Kyle. Chloe deserves the world. If you were to ask Beca, anyway.

Like Beca and Jesse, Chloe and Kyle will be parting ways soon, both having landed jobs in different places. Why Kyle even went to college is kind of lost on Beca, considering he is going to be working for his family business. Beca is sure he would’ve been handed the position regardless of a degree. But, whatever, she figures it’s not her place to question it.

It is probably also not her place to keep as close an eye on Chloe as she currently is, but Beca just hates to think of her suffering in any way, and Beca knows the way Chloe suffers when it comes to Kyle. There is such a thing as _too_ pure, as loving _too_ wholeheartedly, and that is Chloe Beale all over. When Chloe cares about someone or something, she cares with everything in her, and that can make her vulnerable. Kyle would never hurt her, at least not physically. But he just… He doesn’t _get_ Chloe, not the way Beca does. No one does, in fact. Beca is sure of that.

“Hey, Bec, you need another drink?” Jesse asks casually, his voice interrupting her thoughts once more.

“Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks.”

Beca returns the chaste kiss he drops to her lips, tilting her not-yet-empty cup away from Jesse’s view. She doesn’t need a drink, but Chloe needs her.

It either wasn’t much of a fight, or they have just become so skilled at it by now that they can get everything out there within mere minutes, because Beca notices Kyle storming back toward the table already. This time, Chloe isn’t trailing along behind him.

And that is Beca’s cue to leave.

“Tell Jesse I’ll be right back, okay?” Beca whispers quietly to Amy, before rising from her seat.

It doesn’t take her too long to find Chloe. It is not just because Beca knows the Bellas house like the back of her hand after three years of living there, either.

Everyone is congregated outside, enjoying the graduation party. Chloe, on the other hand, is now sitting on one of the couches alone. The faint sound of quiet sobs rings through the air as Beca enters. Unfortunately, it is a familiar sound, one that Beca hates—one that she always wishes she could stop.

The floorboard creaks, the same one that always creaks. Normally, Beca is pretty good at avoiding it, but her mind is currently a little preoccupied by the sight before her. The sound causes Chloe to pause.

“It’s just me,” Beca assures in a soft voice, gentle gaze easily meeting Chloe’s. Beca hates that those blue eyes—her _favorite_ blue eyes—are glazed over with thick, salty tears, and despite the fact that Beca tries not to look too sympathetic (she knows Chloe, she knows she doesn’t want pity), she just can’t help it. Beca’s expression is soft, her faint smile almost apologetic.

“Oh,” Chloe whispers barely audibly. She returns that same small, barely there smile. “Hey. I’m okay.”

“I know you are,” Beca nods her head, her footing almost cautious as she makes her way over to the couch, too. Chloe doesn’t fight her. Instead, she just scoots over a little bit, making room for Beca to perch down comfortably beside her.

There is a short moment of silence that follows, but it is not uncomfortable. Beca doesn’t want to intrude, she just wants Chloe to know that she’s there. If Chloe wants to talk, Beca is there.

Their silence lingers, though soon it is broken by the soft sound of Chloe’s quiet sobs all over again.

“That was some speech, huh?” Beca finally tries. Of course, she knows Aubrey’s whole heartfelt spiel has a whole load of nothing to do with Chloe’s tears. Sure, it was sweet, and it really did tug at the heartstrings, but it brought up happy memories, and along with it happy tears. Chloe’s tears are not happy ones, though. Far from it.

“Yeah,” Chloe laughs quietly, though her expression soon twists back into that same one from before, the one where there is absolutely nothing funny. “God,” Chloe whispers almost lamely, lifting a hand to swipe away a fallen tear with the pad of her finger. “He’s just… I just wanted this one night, you know? No fighting. Just this one night.”

Beca doesn’t even think about it as she shuffles slightly closer toward Chloe, though it is with a certain hint of caution that she reaches out a hand to rest comfortingly on top of Chloe’s. Chloe’s fingers, nails perfectly manicured, lace naturally through Beca’s, and it becomes quickly clear neither are planning on letting go.

“You know that he’s just scared, right?” Beca offers in the most assuring tone she can muster. She sucks in her bottom lip between pearly teeth as she eyes her friend. “Of leaving you. It’s overwhelming, you know? He doesn’t want to leave you.”

Beca sees the way Chloe rolls her eyes, takes note of her free hand rising to brush away a new tear. “He has a weird way of showing it,” Chloe scoffs, though it is with a certain lack of conviction.

There is no response for that, mostly because Chloe is right. And a part of Beca gets it, because she wouldn’t want to leave Chloe, either. Fortunately for her, Chloe is headed out to California, too. Not LA, but at least they’ll be in the same state. They’ll see each other.

And thank God, too. Because Beca can’t even imagine life without Chloe Beale in it now. Without any of the Bellas, in fact. But Chloe especially. There is something different about her, about the relationship the two of them share. It is a bond Beca can’t quite explain. All she knows is that, as her eyes lock with the most familiar blue, she doesn’t really need any words. She just… Looks. And Chloe does the same in return, until Beca notices that Chloe’s tears have begun to slow.

Beca doesn’t know how much time passes before she sees the way Chloe’s lip twitches slightly up at the corner. It is a small smile, but it is a smile nonetheless.

“Okay?” Beca whispers softly, her fingers squeezing gently onto Chloe’s.

She sees the way Chloe nods her head, before whispering in return, “Okay. Thank you.”

Chloe has calmed down now. She isn’t crying anymore. Her eyes are still red, small particles of mascara dotted beneath them, but she is done crying, and that’s a start. Still, neither one lets go of the other’s hand.

“Chloe?”

The new voice causes both girls to snap their heads over in the direction of the door, just in time to see Kyle emerging from around the corner. He seems to have calmed down now, too.

Kyle has a charming smile. Annoyingly charming, in fact. He uses it as his get out of jail free card, and it works with most people. Beca isn’t most people, though, and the pointed glare she shoots his way isn’t about to vanish at the sight of those perfect pearly whites.

The same apparently cannot be said for Chloe.

“Hey. Yeah,” Chloe nods shortly, finally pulling her hand away from Beca’s, though Beca notices a slight squeeze before her grasp releases. Somehow, it speaks the words they don’t necessarily need to verbalize.

Chloe rises easily from the couch, tucking a chunk of red hair behind her ear. “What’s up?”

Beca isn’t needed anymore. Though she doesn’t move, not yet. Not until she is sure Chloe is okay. Beca catches the sight of those blue eyes, glistening with the remnants of her prior tears, and they soften as they lock with her own.

“Uh, Beca. Can you give us a minute?” Kyle says somewhat apologetically. Beca wants to refuse, to say that she’s fine right here, but she knows this isn’t her fight. Beca knows that, as much as she wants to protect Chloe, Chloe is a big girl, and that she can take care of herself. So, instead, Beca rises now, too, her focus on Kyle as she exits the room.

Jesse is already sitting at the table once Beca returns, a fresh drink waiting for her.

“Everything okay?” Jesse asks in mild concern as Beca takes back her seat, with Jesse’s arm draping coolly across the back of the chair.

“Yeah, it’s good. Just, you know, the usual,” Beca shrugs, offering Jesse a look, one that he returns. It is their regular ‘Chloe and Kyle drama’ exchange, and neither needs to say anything more.

 

* * *

 

Beca has never been the biggest party animal. She enjoys a drink every now and then, she likes to hang out and dance with her friends, but she has never been the one to stay until the very end. So, when she and Jesse take off around ten, it is really nothing out of the ordinary, and it seems that Chloe and Kyle are doing much better, too. They’re sitting beside one another, their fingers interlaced, while Chloe giggles at some joke Beca hadn’t heard. Harmony is restored, it would seem.

For now, anyway.

There was enough food at the party that there is no need to stop for anything on the way home, and soon Beca is comfortably settled inside she and Jesse’s hotel room, where she proceeds to peel off the short, figure hugging black dress she had worn for the occasion. Her outfit is not her usual style, but she’d felt pretty great in it regardless. Apparently, she isn’t the only one to have thought so.

“You looked really good tonight, Bec,” Jesse’s voice sounds softly in her ear, his hands settling delicately against her now bare waist. The familiar feeling of his parted lips pressing to the soft skin of her shoulder causes a knowing smirk to rise to her own.

“Oh yeah?” Stepping out of the dress, Beca twists her body in Jesse’s arms, her own lifting to drape gently around his neck. “How good?”

Jesse’s lips are brushing against her own this time, black polished nails sliding through the back of his slightly too long hair. “Really good,” he murmurs.

When they make love, it is not Jesse that’s on her mind. Beca knows that it should be, but it isn’t.

It’s Jesse less and less lately, in fact.

 

* * *

 

Beca doesn’t know what time they fall asleep, though there are clothes strewn all over the floor of their suite, and she and Jesse have at least made it to the bed. There is a sound she recognizes, of Jesse snoring softly close to her ear. It isn’t annoying, it’s just… Jesse. It’s Jesse. And it isn’t what pulls Beca back to consciousness.

The sound of her phone vibrating on the bedside table beside her is what catches her attention, and though it causes Jesse to stir, it doesn’t wake him. Beca blinks quickly into the darkness, blindly reaching out a hand to fumble for the phone. Her plan is to silence it, to set it back down and go back to sleep, curled up against her boyfriend, but then she sees the name up on the screen.

 _Chloe Beale_. That lame little sunflower emoji beside it, the one Chloe had insisted Beca use when saving her contact. Her gaze drifts to the time. _Three-seventeen_. Beca stares for only a moment longer, almost like she is trying to register what exactly is going on, before pushing herself up from the bed. The sound of Jesse’s snoring intensifies, and it’s clear he isn’t waking up anytime soon.

Beca taps the answer call button on her screen as she tiptoes quietly from the bedroom and out into the suite’s main living area.

“Chloe, hey. It’s after three… Are you okay?” Beca whispers into the handset, gently closing the bedroom door behind her. She can hear the sound of Chloe sniffling at the other end of the phone. As usual, it is a sound that breaks Beca’s heart—she hates how familiar it is.

“Hey,” Beca’s voice is soft and reassuring as she makes her way over to the couch, slowly sitting herself down on it. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s me, Chlo. What’s going on?”

There is a small silence, followed by the strained sound of Chloe’s whispered words. “I don’t know if I can do this anymore, Beca.”

“Do what?” Beca asks quietly, though she is sure she knows the answer already. The room is silent save for the sound in her ear, the sound of Chloe’s quiet sobs and soft whimpers. It’s answer enough for her.

“It’s okay,” Beca soothes, leaning back against the large couch. The cushions are soft enough that she sinks down comfortably into them, though the way her heart is racing would suggest she’d just been running a whole marathon. Chloe still hasn’t responded. “Did something happen?”

Another sniffle sounds. “No. He just…” Chloe cuts herself off, and Beca can hear rustling at the other end of the phone. She is sure Chloe is wiping under her eyes, though she knows there’s really no point; she isn’t done crying yet. She wishes she was, but she isn’t.

When Kyle’s around, it seems like she never will be, in fact.

“Bec?” Chloe’s voice interrupts her inner monolog, and Beca finds herself nodding despite the fact that Chloe cannot see her.

“I’m here, Chlo. What is it?”

“Can you stay with me?”

There is a brief pause as Beca digests the question, mulling it over for a second or two. It seems Chloe can sense her confusion.

“Like, here. On the phone. Just until I fall asleep.”

There is something almost calming about the request, and Beca knows that it’s almost selfish of her to feel that way. She isn’t the one struggling right now; Chloe is. But Beca just hates to hear it, she hates to know that her friend is feeling the way she currently is. This way, she can be there for her, though. And maybe for now, that’s enough.

“Yeah, of course,” Beca finally whispers soothingly, head nodding slowly once more. Beca lifts her feet to curl her short legs up underneath her. There are no words flowing through the phone, just the sound of Chloe’s breathing, of what sounds like her tears finally slowing. “Uh, should I—”

Chloe cuts her off. “No, it’s okay. Don’t talk.” Chloe’s voice is hushed now, almost as if she is beginning to fall asleep already, comfortable in Beca’s verbal presence. “Just stay with me.”

Once more, Beca finds herself nodding her head into the darkness, phone held firmly against her ear. She tilts her head back into the couch cushion, comfortable in her new position.

Who falls asleep first, Beca doesn’t know, though in reality it’s probably Chloe. The sun is beginning to peek through the open drapes once Beca wakes again, though, this time to the sound of Jesse’s voice. He sounds a little confused, almost concerned.

“Bec?” Jesse questions, approaching her with caution. “Hey, is everything okay? What are you doing out here?”

It takes Beca a moment of blinking to remember what she’s doing here, how she got here— _why_ she got here.

“What time is it?” Beca mumbles lazily, glancing up at her boyfriend through hooded, tired eyes.

“Just before six. Come on,” Jesse pauses briefly, holding out his hand to take hers. Beca accepts it, her fingers lacing easily through his as he pulls her up from the couch. “Let’s go back to bed.”

Beca is still half asleep, still a little confused by her surroundings, so she simply nods her head, allowing Jesse to guide her back through to the bedroom.

Beca’s phone is wedged between two of the couch cushions, the active call with Chloe Beale still displayed on the screen.


	2. Chloe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A deeper look into Chloe and Kyle's relationship, and just how reliant she is on Beca to help her through it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, here's the [original prompt](https://snowbritt.tumblr.com/tagged/fdp), and here's the [link to the song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XGmJMvnDZEg).
> 
> As always, feedback is appreciated, whether here or on [tumblr](http://snowbritt.tumblr.com)!

Chloe is already awake when she hears the faint knock on the bedroom door. Unlike many of the girls, most of whom are staying in hotels for the weekend since they are almost officially out of the Bellas house for good now, Chloe has one of the remaining sets of keys. So, she and Kyle are staying in her bedroom, with Aubrey and Stacie just down the hall.

Chloe is going to miss this, she thinks. She is going to miss waking up to these familiar walls, to the buzzing of her fellow Bellas laughing and talking downstairs. She doesn’t have much time to think about that, though. Not right now. Not with Kyle opening the door and making his way cautiously inside.

“Can I come in?” Kyle asks carefully, though he is already partway through the door, and proceeds to close it quietly behind him. There is a plate balanced on his free hand, a cinnamon burst bagel covered with Chloe’s favorite honey walnut cream cheese sitting neatly on top. It is kind of a pathetic attempt at a peace offering, but Chloe doesn’t have the energy to fight anymore. She just doesn’t.

So, she offers him a smile—a weak one, but a smile all the same, and Kyle takes that as a response.

“Good morning,” Chloe mumbles softly, her early morning voice still laced with exhaustion. Regardless, it is still light, no hostility.

“Morning, beautiful. Bagel?”

Chloe nods her head as she pushes herself upright against the pillows, long fingers running through her messy, sleep matted hair. Chloe’s eyes are sore and strained, though that’s no surprise, considering she spent the majority of the night crying.

“What time is it?” Chloe asks sleepily, reaching out to scour the comforter for her phone.

It isn’t until she finds it and the screen lights up that she is reminded of last night’s desperate call for comfort, from the only person she ever feels a sufficient amount of comfort from. The call is still active, but Chloe quickly hits the red button, and promises herself that she’ll call Beca again later. She owes her an apology, she’s sure of it.

“It’s still early,” Kyle explains, setting the plate down gently on Chloe’s lap. He is sitting beside her now, and reaches out a hand to brush a few stray strands of red hair delicately behind her ear. “I couldn’t sleep. The couch isn’t nearly as comfortable as this bed.”

A momentary pang of guilt washes over Chloe, but this is such a common occurrence for them by now that it proves difficult for her to feel _too_ sympathetic.

“If you didn’t insist on fighting with me, you wouldn’t have had to sleep on the couch.”

Kyle’s response is not verbal at first. Instead, he just offers her a sheepish smile, one that Chloe cannot help but return.

And that’s the end of their fight. That’s always the end of their fight.

“I have a lot to do today, Chlo. My dad wants me to sit in on some telephone meetings, and who knows how long they could last. Maybe you could spend the day finishing up your packing? Then this evening we can go out to dinner. Wherever you want to go.”

Kyle’s job, currently as a junior in his father’s firm but soon to be something much more permanent, keeps him busy, it’s nothing out of the ordinary. And right now, Chloe could honestly use the break, so he earns himself another nod of her head in response.

It’s not right, Chloe knows it’s not; their relationship, the way Kyle is never the only one on her mind. Perhaps the most messed up of all is the fact that she runs to the one person who’s always there, who’s always taking up some part of her brain, whenever she needs somewhere to fall apart.

But what can she do about that, right?

She can’t. Because Beca has Jesse, and Chloe has Kyle. And friends don’t think about those what ifs. They just don’t.

 

* * *

 

Chloe and Kyle make it through the rest of the day without a fight. It’s no feat really, considering Kyle is preoccupied with his phone for the majority of the day, and Chloe is busy finishing up her packing, just like Kyle had suggested. It’s daring, the fact that Chloe has a positive feeling about their upcoming evening, but against better judgment, she does. Chloe slips into one of her favorite dresses, one of the ones that has Kyle’s eyes on her even more intently than usual whenever she wears it.

“You look ridiculous,” she hears Kyle’s voice from the doorway. Chloe’s auburn brows tug together in response, her stare landing on Kyle through the mirror’s reflection.

Kyle shakes his head gently, his lips curving into an easy smirk. Though, Chloe doesn’t really understand why at first. “In a good way.”

At that, Chloe’s expression smooths out, blue eyes rolling playfully at him in the mirror’s reflection. “That was very poor wording.”

A small chuckle falls from Kyle’s lips, and Chloe watches the way his jaw becomes even more defined. He’s so good looking, he really is. So conventionally good looking, and sometimes Chloe still can’t believe he’s hers, despite more than two years together.

Kyle hasn’t been the only one on her mind, though. And Chloe hates herself for that, she really does. But she can’t help it.

The realization also plays a partial part in why she can’t believe he’s hers, because sometimes she wishes somebody else was. But Chloe doesn’t allow herself to explore just _who_ that someone else may be. She has Kyle.

Chloe has Kyle. Nobody else. Just Kyle.

“Sorry, babe. You know I always think you look incredible.” Kyle corrects, grabbing his keys from the dresser. He twirls them coolly around his index finger, gaze trained on Chloe. “Ready to go?”

Chloe nods her head, setting down her curling iron and rising from her seat.

The car ride to the restaurant—Chloe’s favorite seafood place—goes smoothly, and Chloe dares herself to believe, for a short while, that dinner is headed in the same direction. Chloe orders her favorite dish, and Kyle comments on how beautiful she looks more than once, which has her cheeks heating up and her painted lips curving into an appreciative smile.

They’re mid-conversation when Chloe’s ringtone begins to sound obtrusively from her purse.

“Sorry, one second,” Chloe promises quickly, signaling with her finger, before beginning to dig through her dark green purse to retrieve her phone. She doesn’t see the way Kyle’s jaw clenches, not at first.

“Of course,” Chloe hears Kyle’s mumbled words. The sarcastic tone they are laced with rings loudly in her ear, despite the quiet volume. It has her looking up from her phone, auburn brows tugging and lightly freckled forehead wrinkling.

“What?”

“We can’t just have one dinner in peace.”

The name and contact picture up on her screen belong to Aubrey, and while Chloe wants to answer, she knows now probably isn’t the time. Not with the way Kyle is acting.

So, she hits reject, and instead stares over at her boyfriend in evident confusion.

“You’re kidding me, right?” Chloe’s laugh is dry and cautious. “You’re always on your phone.”

“That’s different,” Kyle retorts, waving a hand as if to completely brush her off. He does that a lot, it’s one of Chloe’s least favorite things. “That’s business.”

“So I’m just supposed to ignore my friends?” Chloe questions slowly, kinking a brow. She doesn’t want to fight, so quickly shakes her head as she slips her phone back into her purse. “Look, I declined the call. I’m sorry that it interrupted dinner, but I don’t get to choose when my friends call me.”

Of course, that is not the end of their fight. Quite the opposite, in fact.

They go on to argue about how Chloe’s friends are more important to her than Kyle is, and how Kyle’s job means more to him than Chloe does. It escalates quickly, and soon Chloe’s earlier feeling that the evening would actually be _good_ is a distant, fictional memory.

Following Chloe telling him in a fit of rage that she doesn’t think this is working anymore, and Kyle muttering after her as she leaves the table that they wouldn’t survive the distance because she only cares about herself and her friends anyway, Chloe finds herself standing outside of the restaurant with her phone in her hand. Familiar tears stream slowly down her face, staining her cheeks with what she should’ve learned by now should be waterproof mascara. It is a night like so many others, and Chloe really doesn’t know what she is doing anymore.

Aubrey’s name appears on her screen again, this time as a text message to let her know that she and Stacie are heading out and they want to make sure she has her key. Chloe should probably respond, but it is almost like she doesn’t really know what she’s doing when she closes out of the notification and instead opens up her recent call list, thumb instantly tapping on Beca’s name.

It’s an automatic reaction. Beca is her person, she’s her comfort, and Chloe is almost holding it together until she hears that familiar voice at the other end of the phone.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

It’s pathetic really, the fact that Beca just _knows_ to expect something negative. Of course, Chloe is audibly crying into the phone, but she’s sure Beca would’ve known anyway. There’s always an issue. Always.

“No, I’m—” Chloe cuts herself off with a brief shake of her head. “I think we just broke up.”

There’s barely a pause before Beca is speaking again, her tone laced with both worry and genuine concern. “What? Where are you, Chlo? Do you need me—”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do. I’m at Bay Breeze. He’s still inside.”

This pause is longer, and Chloe can hear shuffling throughout, followed by the sound of keys jangling. “I’ll be right there, okay?” Beca promises, “Just wait outside for me.”

Chloe utters a soft “Okay” through another shaky breath, before hanging up the call.

God, why does this always happen? _How_ does this always happen?

And why does Chloe always have to run to Beca to fix it—to fix her.

 

* * *

 

A part of Chloe expects Kyle to follow her out here, and a small, stupid part of her wants him to. But the bigger part, the part that had her calling Beca, hopes that he won’t.

And he doesn’t. Or if he does, it is not until Chloe is seated safely in the passenger seat of Beca’s car and Beca has begun to drive them away from the restaurant, because Chloe doesn’t see him.

“Okay, tell me what happened,” Beca urges gently, glancing over toward Chloe as she pulls away from the restaurant’s parking lot. “Do you need me to pull over or anything?”

“No,” Chloe shakes her head, red curls brushing against her bare shoulder. She notices that the ends are wet with her own tears, and suddenly she feels completely pathetic. “Let’s just get out of here. Let’s just… drive.”

So Beca does, she drives. And Chloe tells her everything. It all sounds so stupid when she says it aloud, but Beca doesn’t judge her. Beca stays quiet and takes it all in. Then, as they pull up at a red light, Beca reaches over to settle her hand gently on top of Chloe’s. The feeling is so comforting and reassuring, it almost makes Chloe cry again, but soon Beca is letting go and repositioning her hand on the wheel in time for the light to turn green.

“I don’t even know what to say, Chlo,” Beca finally sighs, her hands gripping a little more tightly onto the wheel. Chloe doesn’t believe her, though. It is clear that Beca is holding something back, but Chloe doesn’t want to push it from her. She doesn’t need to hear an ‘I told you so’. Not that she would, considering Beca has always been one hundred percent supportive, but still, Chloe doesn’t want to hear it.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Chloe promises sincerely, bringing up her hands to brush away the tears from beneath her eyes with the pads of her fingers. There are no new ones anymore, so at least that’s something. Her voice is quiet as she continues. “I don’t even want to think about him right now.”

It’s not surprising that Beca complies. Beca always has Chloe’s best interests in mind, Chloe knows that. Honestly, it’s kind of annoying sometimes. Not that Beca cares the way she does, just that she won’t say what’s on her mind. Like she’s always holding _something_ back. But Chloe doesn’t push.

There’s a silence, but it’s not uncomfortable. Chloe uses it to try to clear her head, but it’s evident that Beca is deep in thought. She doesn’t mean to stare, and the way she does it is subtle, but Chloe knows that face. She knows that expression, even if she’s watching it from the corner of her eye.

“Chloe, are you happy?”

The question catches Chloe off guard. It seems like the answer should be obvious; she is literally sitting here with mascara staining her cheeks, her teary eyes still red and puffy. Chloe’s silence prompts Beca to continue. Or maybe it’s the way her brows are knitted, like she’s entirely confused.

“I just…” Beca cuts herself off quickly, her words almost mumbled, “I just want you to be happy.”

It’s so simple. Beca’s words, they’re so simple, so to the point, yet they have Chloe’s lips curving into a soft, appreciative smile, as if she has just said the most profound, most incredible of things. Ten minutes ago, Chloe hadn’t felt like smiling at all.

But that was before Beca.

“Where should I take you?” Beca cuts in, “Back to the house?”

Chloe thinks for a moment, before finally nodding her head. “Yeah, I doubt he’ll be back there.”

Beca doesn’t need to respond, she simply drives.

“You missed the turn—”

“I know.”

Beca’s gaze is forward, she is focusing intently on the road, but Chloe is focusing on Beca, and she knows exactly what she is doing.

The fifteen minute drive takes almost three times as long, but Chloe doesn’t mind. She doesn’t mind that Beca is driving slowly, taking unfamiliar backroads. She doesn’t mind the music humming quietly through the car’s speaker, nor the way Beca sings softly along with it. Chloe doesn’t mind the sight from the corner of her eye as she watches Beca in the driver’s seat, the comfort she takes in the sound of Beca’s familiar, melodic voice. Chloe doesn’t mind that the route prolongs their time together.

In fact, her heart sinks when they finally do arrive at the Bellas house.

When Chloe pushes the button to release her seatbelt, she pushes Beca’s, too. Beca glances over toward her, and Chloe responds with a small smile, followed by a simple nod of her head, and then Beca is cutting the engine.

“Do you have to get back to Jesse?”

“No, he’s fine.”

Chloe isn’t going to push, to ask Beca if she’s sure. Selfishly, she wants her to stay with her. She _needs_ Beca to stay.

By the time Chloe has climbed out of the car, Beca has, too. Beca is wearing black skinny jeans, a gray shirt, and has a flannel tied loosely around her waist. Her mousy hair hangs in lazy curls, and the whole look is just so _Beca_ , it’s so familiar. It’s comforting. But that’s Beca all over; she’s comforting, she’s a comfort.

Chloe doesn’t even think about it as her hand brushes against Beca’s, their fingers easily lacing together. That’s comfortable, too.

The door to the house is locked, Aubrey and Stacie have obviously already left, so Chloe lets them in with her key. Her hand does not let go of Beca’s until they are safely inside, with the rest of the world closed out behind them.

To begin with, Chloe doesn’t even think about unclasping her fingers from Beca’s. It’s not until she notices herself staring, and sees the way familiar blue eyes stare back, that they both seem to drop their release.

“I’m gonna grab a bottle of water,” Beca states quickly, clearing her throat as she tucks a loose curl behind her ear. Chloe notes that there is something kind of awkward about her movements. “Do you want one?”

“We have wine. I’ll take wine.”

“Got it.”

Once Beca returns with a half full glass of white wine, Chloe has already made herself comfortable on the couch. Her light jacket is removed and now lays draped across the back.

“I’m sorry I ruined your evening,” Chloe says quietly, offering Beca an apologetic look as she accepts the wine glass. Beca returns it with knitted brows.

“What? No, don’t apologize. We really weren’t doing anything. Jesse was watching a movie. You know that’s not my thing,” Beca shrugs nonchalantly, popping open the cap of her water bottle and taking a sip. “You want to watch something?”

In spite of herself, of her very much opposite of happy mood, Chloe cracks a smile at that. “Watching a movie with your boyfriend isn’t your thing, but you’ll watch one with me?”

Beca waves a hand, mid-sip of her water. “I mean, you could use the distraction. Besides, your movie choice isn’t terrible. His is.”

Chloe’s grin widens, but she shakes her head regardless. “No, that’s okay.” She pauses for a moment, the silence between them not an uncomfortable one. Then again, nothing is ever uncomfortable between them. They really could just sit here and Chloe would feel better. It’s Beca’s presence, she just makes her feel better, more like herself.

“The graduation party was fun,” Beca comments into the silence. “Aubrey’s speech was…” She wrinkles her nose, as if trying to find the correct words.

Chloe chuckles softly. “Very Aubrey.”

“Right,” Beca grins, “It was very Aubrey.”

Through the sound of a small sigh, Beca kicks off her faded boots, then leans back into the cushions of the couch. Her water bottle is balanced against her thigh. “I’m gonna miss this place, you know?” Beca murmurs quietly, head back against the couch, though she turns her face toward Chloe.

“Are you going to miss me?”

There is a small, amused smile tugging at Beca’s lips. “Do you want me to miss you?”

“Of course,” Chloe nods her head, a wide grin spreading across her face. “I want you to wake up every morning like ‘dude, I sure miss Chloe!’” Her Beca impression is poor, but it has Beca laughing, so that’s really all that matters.

“Fine, I’ll miss you. But not really, because you’ll be there. I mean, not exactly right there in the same house as me, but we’ll be close by. We’ll be able to hang out still.”

Chloe leans back against the couch now, her own sigh a content one as she looks up at the ceiling. Her head is tilted back just like Beca’s, wine glass held comfortably in her hand. “I know. I’m glad, you know?”

Chloe turns her face toward Beca, the two of them looking at each other.

“About what?”

“That you’ll be there. I’m excited for this next chapter, but I don’t know if I could do it on my own.”

Beca shrugs a shoulder, though it is a small, lazy shrug—just like the small, lazy smile settled on her lips. “I think you’d be fine. I’m glad you’ll be there too, though.” Beca tips her head back now, eyes up toward the ceiling, and a small laugh falls from her lips.

Chloe looks at her with a raised brow. “What?”

“Just thinking,” Beca shrugs. “Remember that one time when I had that cold that I was convinced was going to be the end of me?”

The memory rushes back, the part Beca was about to state before she has even gotten the chance to do so, and Chloe is giggling now, too.

“I do. I heard that huge bang, and I came running in here and you were laying on the floor with all of your gross tissues around you, still completely asleep. I was worried, though.”

Beca pushes herself upright at that, brows raising. “Oh yeah, so worried that you took a picture.”

“Hey! I made sure you were okay before I took the picture. And then I helped you back up afterwards.” Chloe retorts in amusement, taking a sip of her wine. The first taste instantly relaxes her. “You know, maybe we should get a place together when we go out there. Who’s going to be there to pick you back up when you fall off the couch next time?”

“I’m really hoping there won’t be a next time. But I mean, I wouldn’t hate living with you. If our jobs were closer, I’d totally say we could do it.”

“I know,” Chloe lets out a breath; again, it is a content sigh.

Beca has made her feel better. Beca always makes her feel better. So Chloe doesn’t fully understand the way her eyes have begun to sting again as they sit in comfortable, familiar silence, the way she feels tears welling up in them. It seems Beca has noticed, though. Chloe notes the way Beca is looking over at her with a concerned expression.

“I thought you were feeling better,” Beca says, reaching out a hand to pull Chloe upright with her. Her voice has gone back to that soft, reassuring tone again. “What’s wrong, Chlo?”

Chloe blinks, a couple tears forced over her lids along with the action. “I don’t know. I just wish things were different.”

Although Beca offers her a small, sympathetic smile in response, she seems a little confused by the statement. “Different how?”

“Like I didn’t have to cry all the time,” Chloe whispers pathetically, glancing down into her wine glass.

There is no response for that, because it’s not right that she spends most of her time in tears these days. And they both know why. They both know that Kyle isn’t good for her, but Beca won’t say so. Chloe doesn’t think she will, anyway.

Chloe is the one to break the silence, while Beca is the one to reach for Chloe’s hand. Their fingers interlace easily, almost like they’re _supposed_ to be linked that way.

“Earlier, when we were in the car, you asked if I was happy.” Chloe’s voice is strained again and thick with tears. There is an almost pained expression on Beca’s face, if Chloe is reading her correctly. It’s not a look that Chloe likes. She doesn’t mean to sound as pathetic as she does, but she’s sad. And she can’t pretend to be anything else. Especially not around the one person who knows her better than anyone. So, Chloe continues in a whisper, a barely audible one, “I’m not happy, Bec.”

If it was possible to _see_ someone’s heart break, Chloe is sure it would look like the expression on Beca’s face right now.

“I know you’re not, Chlo,” Beca whispers in response. Beca drops her water bottle down in her lap, then reaches out to gently take the wine glass from Chloe. She sets it down on the floor beside the couch, then carefully tugs Chloe closer. “Come here.”

So she does. She lets Beca wrap her safely in her arms, and Chloe buries her face in the soft fabric of Beca’s shirt, her tears flowing freely. She knows she sounds so stupid—she _knows_ it. But Beca isn’t judging. Beca just holds her tighter, one hand brushing gently through the back of Chloe’s hair, and soothing her easily with a soft, “Shh.”

For a while they just sit, with Beca’s arms protectively wrapped around Chloe, and Chloe’s tears staining Beca’s shirt. Fortunately, Beca doesn’t seem to mind. Chloe doesn’t know how much time passes, she just knows that she’s glad Beca is here right now. She is grateful for the feeling of protective arms around her, of the smell of Beca’s perfume, of the calming feeling of Beca’s heartbeat. And eventually, Chloe’s tears have stopped, though Beca doesn’t let go. Not right away.

“Okay?” Beca whispers, finally leaning back a little.

Chloe’s eyes, still glazed over with her earlier tears, lock with Beca’s. She eventually responds with a small nod of her head, her own voice no more than a whisper, “Okay.”

“You really will be okay, Chlo,” Beca continues in a hushed voice, unwrapping one arm from around Chloe to brush her thumb instead against Chloe’s cheek, effectively wiping away the remaining tears.

They have nothing more to say. Their silence says it all. If Beca would just speak her mind, if she’d tell Chloe what Chloe is so sure she is thinking, she’s sure she’d tell her that she’ll be okay soon because Kyle won’t be there. Chloe will be in California. Beca will be, too. And Kyle won’t be there. Neither will Jesse.

Not that that matters.

Their gazes are so intently locked on one another’s that Chloe doesn’t even realize it at first, not until Beca finally moves, though this time she doesn’t pull away. Instead, Beca leans forward, arching herself upward slightly to press a gentle, reassuring kiss to the soft crease wrinkling Chloe’s forehead. It is a small, lingering kiss, and Chloe closes her eyes as she loses herself in the feeling.

Chloe notes that her heart is racing as Beca moves back, and the look on Beca’s face tells Chloe that hers is, too.

Chloe doesn’t know what’s happening here. All she knows is that her gaze has dropped down to Beca’s lips now that they have both pulled back, and that they’re sitting so closely that it’s difficult for her to move. She doesn’t want to move. Everything is so still, so silent. So… _Something_.

“Bec,” Chloe whispers quietly, gaze drifting upward slightly. Immediately, it falls back down toward Beca’s lips again, and Chloe cannot help but silently register just how inviting the sight is, how desperate she is to close the small gap between them.

Beca’s tongue flicks out through the part in her dry lips, and Chloe notices the way her eyes have pointed downward now, too.

Chloe doesn’t know what’s happening. She doesn’t know what’s happening. Chloe doesn’t know why she has this inexplicable urge to lean closer. She doesn’t know why she’s silently begging Beca to do the same.

Chloe doesn’t know anything, it seems, until the door opens, and Beca’s arm is suddenly falling from around her. Hastily, Beca jumps back, her now free hands running through her lightly curled hair.

“Uh, yeah,” Beca says awkwardly, and Chloe thinks Beca is refusing to make eye contact with Kyle, though she doesn’t know why. At least, she tells herself she doesn’t.

Chloe wishes Kyle wasn’t here right now, though. But he is, and whatever just happened, whatever was _about_ to happen… It’s done. It’s over, before it even really got the chance to start.


	3. Beca

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca's time in Georgia comes to an end. She and Chloe have a little bit of aftermath to deal with, before Beca starts her new life in Los Angeles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd planned an additional something for this chapter, but it was getting a little long, so I figured I'd wrap it up and throw the other thing in next chapter — which _hopefully_ means it'll come sooner!

Kyle eyes them for a moment. Beca isn’t looking at him, but she can literally _feel_ his stare burning into she and Chloe. Beca can see him from the corner of her eye.

“I thought you’d be here,” Kyle states plainly.

“Where else would she be?”

The words flow out with a hint of venom, and Beca doesn’t know exactly where it came from. Chloe seems to be stuck in place, though she eventually pushes herself up from the couch.

“Bec, it’s okay,” Chloe mumbles, offering Beca what she perceives as an almost apologetic smile. What she has to apologize for, Beca doesn’t know. Because nothing happened. Nothing was going to happen.

Except Beca can see the mental image of Chloe’s lips, of her faded gloss, with each blink of her lids, and she doesn’t know why.

Well, that’s what she’s telling herself, because really, she does. She knows exactly why.

“Right,” Beca nods shortly, clearing her dry throat again. Apparently, the water she had been drinking only moments ago had been pointless, because Beca feels like she needs to gasp for air at any moment now. Slowly, Beca begins to rise from the couch, still intentionally not making eye contact with Kyle—nor Chloe, for that matter. “Uh, I guess I’ll head out, then. I have to, uh,” Beca pauses, but only because her foot collides with the wine glass on the floor, its contents instantly spilling out onto the freshly cleaned carpet. “Oh. Shoot. Sorry, let me just—”

As Beca leans down, Chloe does the same. It would be almost comical really, the way their two foreheads bump against one another’s, if Beca wasn’t in the middle of some kind of inner panic that she cannot quite explain. “Crap. Sorry,” Beca murmurs hesitantly.

“No. No, it’s okay. I’ll clean it up. You just—”

“Yeah.”

Whatever’s happening right now, Beca doesn’t know. All she knows is that she has to get out of there. So, hastily, Beca picks up her keys and heads for the door, finally making eye contact with Chloe from across the room. She forces herself not to glance down at her lips. “Call me later, okay? If you, you know, need me.”

“Yeah, of course. Thank you. For coming to pick me up.”

All Beca does is flash Chloe a quick smile, before heading out the door. She makes sure not to meet Kyle’s stare.

“Chloe, I’m sorry,” Beca hears Kyle’s muffled voice through the door once it has closed behind her, and a part of her wants to walk back in there and grab Chloe. Beca wants to shake her by the shoulders, tell her _not_ to forgive him. Because he always does this. Kyle always hurts Chloe. Chloe, the most innocent, genuinely sweet person in the world. Kyle hurts her, and Chloe always forgives him, even though he doesn’t deserve her forgiveness.

It is not just because her heart is racing that Beca stands with her back to the door for a moment, trying to catch her breath. A large part of her also wants to stay, to make sure Chloe is okay. But Beca knows this isn’t her fight. It isn’t up to her to fix it.

But she wants to. She always wants to fix Chloe Beale.

It takes everything in her, but finally, Beca decides to leave. Not before standing for a few minutes and playing with her keys, though. It dawns on her that she is trying to think up reasons to go back inside.

But, soon Beca is back at the hotel with Jesse, and he is her priority. He should always be her priority. Beca is a good actress, she’s had enough practice. So, Jesse doesn’t notice that there is anything wrong. Because there _isn’t_ anything wrong... It’s just a normal, ordinary night, as far as Beca is concerned.

Like any normal, ordinary night, she and Jesse watch a movie together.

Or at least Jesse watches a movie. Beca just curls up beside him, entirely trapped inside of her own mind.

And then suddenly, before she knows it, it is time for her to leave Georgia. And Beca doesn’t see much more of Chloe.

She doesn’t know if it is intentional or not.

 

* * *

 

The start date for Beca’s job is earlier than Chloe’s. Jesse flies out to Los Angeles with her and helps her to settle into her shoebox apartment, though it is soon time for him to leave for Maine. Their goodbyes are emotional, of course they are. But Beca almost feels a sense of freedom once she waves him away at the airport.

And she hates that. Because Jesse is such a good person. Jesse is so good to her, he always has been. Beca loves Jesse, there is really no doubting that. She just doesn’t know if it’s in the way she is supposed to love him. Not anymore.

When her phone rings the morning after Jesse leaves, Beca expects it to be him calling to check in. The call wakes her, and she doesn’t think to check the name on the screen. Beca simply reaches out and swats the dresser until she feels the phone in her hand, then taps blindly at the screen, before holding it up to her ear. Her voice comes out croaky as she speaks.

“Hello?”

“Beca?”

Beca’s tired eyes widen some at the sound of the voice on the other end of the line. She doesn’t mean to sound as surprised as she does.

“Chloe?”

Chloe’s familiar, melodic giggle sounds softly, like music in Beca’s ear. “Who else is gonna be calling you from my phone, silly?”

“Oh, yeah. Duh,” Beca clears her throat quickly, reaching behind herself to prop up her pillows. “What time is it?”

“Oh, shoot. It’s nine, but that means it’s only six for you. I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think. I just woke up and called you... I totally woke you, right?”

“No,” Beca lies, rubbing at her tired eyes with her free hand. “I mean, yeah. But it’s fine.” There’s something she likes about that, about being the first thought in Chloe’s mind. “What’s up?”

“Okay. I’m sorry. I just wanted to call and say hi.” Chloe pauses for a moment, almost like she is hesitating. “Bec, we’re okay, right?”

“What?” Until now, Beca had wondered the same thing. But then she’d heard Chloe’s voice, the caution in it when she’d asked the question, and suddenly Beca knows they’re okay. Beca knows they will always be okay. “Yeah, Chlo. Of course we are.”

“Okay, good. I just figured since we haven’t really spoken much lately, maybe something was wrong.”

“No, no. We’re good, I promise. I’m sorry, I’ve just been busy with the move and stuff.”

“I get that.” Chloe sounds happier now, more relaxed. And that makes Beca feel better, too. “How is your new place? Do you like it?”

As of yet, Beca doesn’t really have an opinion on her new home. She hasn’t been here long, she doesn’t really know what to make of it yet. “It’s... An adjustment, I guess. But I mean, the apartment is nice, and the weather is insane. It’ll be better when you’re here.”

The statement just slips out, but Beca doesn’t correct herself. Her lids shoot further open, but still, she doesn’t correct herself, and she can hear the happiness in Chloe’s voice as she responds.

“Good. I’ll be there before you know it. You need to scope out the best pizza places before I get there so we can go as soon as I arrive.”

At that, Beca chuckles softly to herself. Her fingers stretch to brush through her messy hair. “Definitely.”

“You’re still coming out for the wedding, right?”

“Of course I am. Do you think Amy would let me live it down if not?”

It is Chloe’s turn to giggle now, and Beca can tell that she’s shaking her head by the way her earrings rattle against her phone. Beca can picture the exact ones they are, too. They’re shaped like tiny, little stars, they match the necklace Chloe wears almost every day. “No, I guess not.”

“I’m gonna be going stag, though. Jesse can’t take off from his new job yet.”

“Nope, you won’t. You’ll be with me. Kyle isn’t going, either.”

Beca doesn’t know what’s going on between Chloe and Kyle now. Truthfully, she hasn’t asked. She has noticed they’re still Facebook official, though, if that counts for anything.

“What are you wearing?”

Beca pauses at that, dark brows wrinkling slightly as she glances down at her torso. “Uh, a tank top...”

“No, not now!” Chloe’s laugh is always so familiar, so pure. Beca can never help herself, she always laughs along with her. “I meant to the wedding!”

Chloe is still giggling to herself when Beca responds. “Ohh. Right.” Beca is a little embarrassed by her own mistake, but it is nothing she can’t laugh off. “Um, I don’t know, probably a dress.”

If you were to ask Beca, she would tell you she doesn’t really understand the necessity of her presence at the wedding. She knows the people getting married, they both went to Barden. But they’re Amy’s friends, not hers. Amy has always liked to put on a show, though, and as a bridesmaid, she has requested adamantly that all of the Bellas be there to see her.

When she’d interviewed for her job, Beca had told them that she had a wedding to go to back in Georgia, but had said it was fine if she couldn’t take off for it. Her new boss had been happy to honor the commitment, though, so she really has no excuse. Plus, any excuse for a Bellas reunion is a good one in her book. In all of theirs, in fact. That’s probably the only reason they have all agreed to make the journey back.

Well, except for Chloe. Chloe is a sucker for a fairytale wedding, a day filled with love and dancing, and whatever else there is to make Beca roll her eyes. There is no way Chloe would’ve skipped out on this. In fact, Beca is pretty sure Chloe would’ve invited herself anyway. There’s something sweet about the thought. A little weird, but still, incredibly sweet.

...A good way to describe Chloe Beale, in fact.

“A dress,” Chloe repeats, “Okay. I tried to talk Rachel into letting us perform at the reception, but she said they already have all of their entertainment booked.”

Beca chuckles quietly. “I think we can just be bystanders at this one event, Chlo. We don’t need to be those people that break out into song wherever we go.”

“I guess you’re right. It’ll be fun, though. Maybe they’ll have karaoke, then we can get up there and sing anyway.”

Although Beca rolls her eyes, it is done playfully. Chloe’s passion and enthusiasm is adorable, Beca always thinks so.

They talk for a while longer. Or maybe more than just a while, because Beca gets up, makes breakfast, eats it and clears everything away before their call has ended, but it feels like no time has passed at all.

That is always the way she feels when she’s around Chloe, though. Evidently, even when they’re just talking on the phone. And suddenly Beca misses her once they’ve said their goodbyes. She’s reminded of why she can’t go so long without talking to Chloe Beale. She just... Can’t.

And she doesn’t. They’ve already begun texting by noon. Nothing exciting, just general, day to day conversation. Although Beca does find herself smiling at a particular text message about how Chloe is planning on stocking the kitchen cupboards in her new apartment with Beca’s favorite peanut butter cookies to entice her over there for frequent visits.

As if she’d even _need_ an excuse.

It’s like no time has passed at all, though. Like they haven’t gone any period of time without talking. Then again, it wasn’t exactly an eternity, anyway. Just a couple weeks. But that’s the most the two have spent without contact since their first run-in at Barden University, so it is only right that the distance has felt a little strange. It isn’t something Beca needs to dwell on now, though.

Not that she really has the time, considering her job begins the next day, and Beca is immediately thrown right on in at the deep end. But she doesn’t mind that. Beca likes to be kept busy, she enjoys a challenge, and she finds that she slips into her new workplace with ease, even making good enough friends with people there that she finds herself invited to a club with them that very following Saturday.

 

* * *

 

It is almost weird, Beca thinks—not so much the new place, nor the club she has never been to before—more so the people. For the last four years of her life, Beca has done everything with the Bellas. She (legally) hit her first club with them, it’s just weird being without them now. One of them in particular.

But as she sips on her third jack and ginger and dances with her new friends, Beca finds that she is having fun, in spite of the small ache in her chest as she thinks about how much Chloe would love this place. Beca thinks she’ll bring Chloe here once she moves to her new apartment, in fact.

Beca wishes that could happen sooner rather than later.

Beca isn’t exactly throwing back countless drinks, though she does feel her buzz heighten as the night goes on, and it is safe to say that she is at least mildly drunk when one of the girls takes her gently by the arm and twirls her around toward her.

“Are you having fun?” Katie asks with an excited glimmer in her pale eyes, her volume loud to overpower the music. Katie is holding a drink in one hand, the same way Beca is, but slips her fingers easily through Beca’s free hand to dance with her.

“Yeah! The music here is awesome!” Beca responds just as loudly, her cheeks flushed a soft shade of pink from the whiskey flowing through her system.

Katie is sweet. She’s loud and she’s excitable. Her blue-green eyes sparkle under the consistently changing lights, and Beca can’t help but think that, if her blonde hair was red, she’d almost remind her vaguely of a slightly older, slightly taller Chloe Beale.

Katie lifts their hands to twirl Beca around on the spot, with Beca chuckling as she almost stumbles mid-turn, but Katie’s hold on her tightens, and she is kept safely upright.

“I think some of the girls want to head to another club, but me, Nat and Molly are gonna stay here.”

Beca has noticed some of the others sinking back the rest of their drinks, but she is perfectly happy where she is, and shrugs a shoulder as she dances with Katie. “Okay. Yeah, I’ll probably just stay here with you guys.”

“Okay!”

Including Beca, there are nine of them in total. The five that decide to move on to the next location make sure to wrap the other four in tight hugs before they depart.

They’re just genuinely nice girls, Beca has noticed. They remind her of her friends, of her Bellas. Of Aubrey, Amy, Stacie, Chloe...

Chloe.

No matter what she does, no matter where she is, Chloe is on her mind, and Beca doesn’t have an explanation for it. She does know that she wants to talk to her, though. And that the hand in her own right now makes her miss the feeling of something more familiar.

“Hey!” Beca calls out over the sound of the loud, thudding music, holding out her drink toward her new friend. “Can you grab this a sec? I have to go make a phone call.”

Katie happily obliges, and offers to go outside with her, but Beca assures her that she’ll be fine on her own. Soon, Beca finds herself stumbling out into the thick Los Angeles night time air.

Even thicker thanks to the smokers and vapers huddling together, though Beca doesn’t really care about that. Her mind is on her phone. It’s out of her purse and in her hand in no time, and soon she is holding it up to her ear and listening to the faint sound of it ring.

When the tone stops, Beca doesn’t know what’s happening at first. The music is still loud as it pours from the building beside her, and the buzz of conversation blocks her from hearing properly, too. So, Beca plugs her free ear with the tip of her finger, pressing her phone a little harder against her face.

“Chloe?”

She doesn’t mean to yell, but she is drunk, and every sound around her feels like it is somehow intensified.

“Beca?”

Chloe’s voice is quiet, almost a little dazed.

“Bec, it’s almost three in the morning. Are you okay? What’s going on?”

That would explain it.

“Beca? I can’t hear you. Are you okay?”

Beca is still holding the phone to her ear, still plugging the other with her finger. She hasn’t realized she still hasn’t responded.

“Beca!”

Finally, Beca snaps out of her momentary daze. “What? Oh. Chlo, hey! No, yeah, everything’s fine.”

“Where are you? Are you drunk?”

Although she responds with a confident “Nope!”, the way Beca giggles lazily would suggest otherwise.

“How much have you had to drink?”

“Umm. I don’t know. Just some jack and ginger. Maybe one. Maybe more.”

Chloe had sounded worried before, but Beca is sure she can hear the faint sound of familiar, sleepy laughter now. It takes her back to countless nights where the two would sit in the living room when everybody else had gone to bed, huddled under a blanket together as they drank rosé wine and talked about any and everything.

“You’re wild, Beca Mitchell. This is totally you getting me back for waking you super early last week, right?”

Beca is already grinning, but it widens some, and she shrugs a shoulder gently in response. “It might be.”

“Well, I’m awake, so consider your revenge successful.” Although her voice is a little croaky, definitely laced with sleep, Chloe sounds just as chipper and cheerful as ever. Beca finds herself clutching more firmly onto her phone, almost like if she holds onto it tight enough, she’ll be able to hold onto Chloe, too.

“Are you having fun?”

“I am,” Beca nods, a few loose curls falling in front of her face. “But I miss you.”

“You do?”

“I do. That’s why I called. I wanted to call you to tell you that I miss you, Chloe. I can’t wait until you come out here.”

There is a brief moment of silence, but not an uncomfortable one. Beca isn’t entirely sure, but she thinks she can _hear_ the smile in Chloe’s voice once she responds.

“I miss you too, Bec.” Chloe’s volume has decreased some, her voice is somehow even softer now. Beca can hear the rustling of her bedsheets, followed by the distinct sound of a long yawn.

“You should go back to sleep. I’m sorry, I promise I didn’t actually mean to wake you,” Beca chuckles quietly, the somewhat bitter taste of her lipgloss hitting her tongue as her teeth sink gently into her bottom lip.

“No, that’s okay. You don’t have to apologize. I like that you called me.” Chloe pauses, though only for a moment. “I like that you miss me.”

Although Beca doesn’t respond right away, she does smile, and it is almost as if Chloe can see it. Maybe she can hear it, the same way Beca heard Chloe’s. Or maybe they just know each other that well that, sometimes, they don’t even need words.

“I’m falling asleep, Bec. But you’ll call me tomorrow, right?”

“Of course I will.”

“Okay. Go have fun, and be safe, okay? I lo—” There is a brief pause, like Chloe stops intentionally, before she continues. “Night, Beca.”

Beca doesn’t get the chance to respond before the line has gone dead. She just looks at her phone, blinking at the now blank screen, and notices her own reflection smiling back at her.

“I do, too,” Beca whispers.

“I know that face.”

The new voice causes Beca to finally look up from the screen. Katie is standing beside her, a wide grin spread across her lips. “Talking to your boyfriend, huh? You’re wearing one of those ‘I’m so happy because I just got done talking to my boo’ faces,” Katie teases lightheartedly. “Come on, Sarah just texted, she said there’s someone famous at the club they’re at, so I mean, obviously we have to go there now. I finished your drink, but I’ll buy your next one. Promise.”

Katie grabs her hand, and Beca lets her, but she isn’t really listening to her.

Honestly, all she is thinking about is Chloe.

 

* * *

 

What time they stay out until is anyone’s guess, because Beca barely even remembers getting home. Apparently, she’d gotten a little more drunk than intended. Fortunately, she finds herself waking in her apartment, last night’s makeup smeared all over her face and her outfit still intact, right down to her shoes.

The first thing she does is check her phone, and sees that it is already past noon. Beca never sleeps this late. She is almost a little ashamed, but the past week or so has been exhausting, and last night was evidently the cherry on top.

Beca has to blink a few times to really focus on all of the notifications on her phone screen. There are multiple text messages from different people, including two from Jesse, one from Katie and three from Chloe.

Naturally, she finds herself clicking on Chloe’s first.

**Chloe  
** _still drunk??_

The first message is followed an hour or so later by:

**Chloe  
** _wake up, sleepy head_

The second message causes a lazy grin to ease onto Beca’s dry lips.

**Chloe  
** _i know it’s still early for you, but i’m a little worried, so make sure you text me when you’re up!_

Beca should check Jesse’s texts too, she knows she should. And she will, but right now her thumb is swiping out of the iMessage application and opening up FaceTime, then tapping on Chloe’s contact.

The familiar, grinning image of Chloe’s contact image is quickly replaced by the sight of Chloe’s face in real-time, and Beca sees the way Chloe squints at her phone, before a soft laugh erupts from her lips.

“Wow, Bec. Your makeup looks... Wow.”

Beca hasn’t even gotten out of bed yet, let alone taken a second to look at herself, though her gaze flickers to her own face in the front camera view. Her own reflection causes her to groan out loud, and pulls an instant giggle from Chloe in response.

“I had a rough night, okay?” Beca whines petulantly, though she cannot help but chuckle along with Chloe. It’s Chloe’s laugh, it’s infectious. Beca can’t help herself.

“So I guess you’re never drinking jack and ginger again, huh?”

The question pulls another pained whine from the back of Beca’s dry throat. “Ugh. Never.”

“Until next time?”

“Until next time.”

Beca’s head is throbbing, and the last thing she feels like doing is smiling. But, somehow, for some reason, the corners of her lips are curved upward, and she is realizing that maybe Chloe’s smile is infectious, too.

“Did you at least have fun?”

Beca’s free hand, the one not holding her phone, rises to brush her messy hair back from her face. Her tresses are matted and tangled, and there is somehow mascara on her chin. Honestly, Beca just needs to jump in the shower and wash the whole night away.

“I think I did. I mean, at least from what I remember.”

Chloe’s fiery curls bob as she nods her head, her lips still turned upward into a bright grin. “Yeah, you were pretty out of it last night.”

“Huh?”

“When you called me.”

“I called you?”

Chloe’s brows tug together, and Beca isn’t sure, but she thinks she maybe looks a little hurt somehow.

“You did. You don’t remember?”

In her defense, Beca has only just woken up, and she really was pretty drunk last night. Her memories are vague and hazy, but she does recall leaving the first club to go outside, now that she thinks about it.

“You don’t remember what you said to me either then, huh?”

At that, Beca’s blood runs cold. It is almost fortunate that her face is dotted with previously unwanted makeup stains, because she is positive that any color in her pale cheeks would’ve faded.

And maybe that should be something of a sign, because friends shouldn’t be afraid of what they may have said during a drunken phone call.

But Beca is.

“You said you miss me.”

“Oh.” So, it could’ve been worse. Beca tries not to make her relief visible, though. She doesn’t realize how tensed up she is until she feels her shoulders slumping slightly, tension easing out of her body. “Well, I do miss you.”

The admission seems to perk Chloe up some, and while she can’t explain it, Beca understands. It causes Beca’s own small, barely visible smile to return.

“I miss you too, Bec. But guess what.”

“What?”

There is something of a shimmer in Chloe’s crystal blue eyes, almost like they are lighting up in thought. The expression causes Beca’s brows to tug slightly, but she is busy studying Chloe’s face, too. It turns out that that’s something she does a lot.

“You’ll see me next week.”

“I will?”

“Yes, silly.” Chloe’s breathy laugh is light, like her former moment of brief upset has passed. “At the wedding.”

“Oh, wow, yeah, that’s next week, huh?”

“It is,” Chloe nods. “Do you know what time your flight gets in? I’ll come pick you up from the airport.”

“Uhh, I’ll check when we’re done on here. But that would be good, Chlo. Thanks.”

Beca needs to shower. In fact, she _really_ needs to shower. The smell of alcohol lingers on her skin, and she is pretty sure there is puke in her hair. But, for some reason, she just can’t seem to bring herself to tell Chloe they should wrap up the call. She wishes she knew why.

Apparently, though, not for the first time, they don’t need words. Because Chloe just knows. She always just... Knows.

“I think you should go eat something and maybe take a shower, Bec. I just needed to hear that you were okay.”

There is something about that that Beca likes. She likes knowing that Chloe cares the way she does. It causes Beca’s smile to become a little more visible, though she doesn’t realize it until she sees the look on Chloe’s face, the way she seems slightly confused by her expression.

“What?”

“Nothing. You’d better not be trying to step in on my mom friend thing, though. That’s my job, even if I’m all the way out here.”

Chloe’s ocean blue eyes roll, though it’s done playfully. They shine that same way Beca has noticed a thousand times before—something she shouldn’t notice, because friends don’t do that. But apparently, Beca does.

“Get out of here,” Chloe chuckles softly, and Beca sees her shifting positions from where she had previously been leaning back against the couch to now sitting a little further upright. “Text me when you’re done showering and stuff? And thank you for calling me.” Chloe’s voice softens some. “For letting me know you’re okay.”

With the way her head is pounding, with how nauseous she feels, Beca’s small smile feels almost out of place, but it isn’t. It’s Chloe. Chloe is the reason. Chloe is why.

And friends don’t make their friends feel like that. But apparently, they do. Chloe does.

“I’ll talk to you later, Bec. I lo—” Chloe pauses, and there is a specific look in her eye that Beca can’t properly read. She just knows that her own heart is racing, and she wonders if Chloe’s is, too. “Bye.”

The call cuts off before Beca can even respond, and soon she is left with Chloe’s contact image. That smiling face, that goofy sunflower emoji beside her name.

And she misses her. Already, Beca misses her. Her fingers clutch a little more tightly to her phone, eyes closing as she utters out three soft words through the softest sigh,

“I do, too.”


	4. Chloe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Bellas return to Georgia for their friend's wedding, and it seems that Beca has been holding plenty back where Kyle is concerned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter kind of wrote itself in the end, I hope y'all like it!

When people ask Chloe what exactly is going on between she and Kyle, she truly doesn’t know what to tell them. Because honestly, even Chloe isn’t so sure anymore. All she does know is that she doesn’t answer his texts or calls, because whether this is an actual breakup or just a break, they need some time apart. If nothing else, Chloe is sure of that.

It is easier for her not to think about Kyle when the week is through, though. Because come Friday, Chloe is finally headed to the airport, she is finally going to see Beca. It’ll be the first time since Beca rescued her from the restaurant, and something about that is almost a little scary.

But that’s not Beca, nor is it Chloe. Chloe doesn’t find Beca frightening or intimidating in any way. Quite the opposite, in fact. Beca is… Her person. She’s her person. Beca is always going to be Chloe’s person.

And Chloe cannot just greet her person any old way, that just won’t do.

Beca’s flight lands early morning, so Chloe is ready and waiting at the arrivals gate from just before seven, homemade sign held in both hands. Most people around her look exhausted, but not Chloe. Chloe is filled with energy, the same way she has been ever since her alarm sounded over an hour ago. It makes sense really, it has felt like forever since she and Beca have been face to face without the use of a phone camera. Chloe is excited, and from the smiley face emojis on Beca’s text message before her flight took off, she thinks that Beca might be, too.

Unsurprisingly, Beca is one of the last through the gates. Beca Mitchell never seems to do anything in a timely manner, after all. But when she does finally come into view, purple suitcase rolling lazily along behind her, Chloe notices how wiped out Beca looks. Her mousy hair is messy and falling in her face, headphones hanging around her neck. The wire looks somewhat tangled, and there is dark eyeliner smudged below her eyes. The whole thing is so… God, it’s just so _Beca Mitchell_ , and the way Chloe’s heart races is becoming familiar by now. The grin on her face is natural, and only widens as she notices Beca squinting to read her sign.

“Welcome back… LA’s biggest… music prod— oh my God, Chloe,” Beca reads aloud, her eyes rolling playfully in response, though Chloe notes that there is an undeniable smile forming on her lips all the same. Beca stops directly in front of her, and the next thing Chloe knows, she is being swept up into a warm, familiar embrace. “You’re so weird.” Chloe hears Beca’s soft, tired voice by her ear.

Chloe chuckles quietly in response, arms wrapping even more tightly around Beca’s middle. She drops her sign in the process, but that doesn’t matter, she’s just so happy to see Beca. “You look tired, Becs,” Chloe states as she pulls back, hands settling on Beca’s upper arms as she takes in the sight of her. “Do you want to grab some breakfast or would you rather just head to the hotel and we can eat later?”

Evidently, Chloe has already decided that this is a _them_ trip. Everything they’re going to be doing, they’ll be doing it together. Just like usual. Beca doesn’t seem to have any complaints.

“We can go eat. Then I need to sleep for at least five hours,” Beca frowns reluctantly, reaching down to retrieve Chloe’s ‘Welcome back, LA’s biggest music producer!’ sign. Rather than hand it over, she slips it underneath her arm, and Chloe can’t help but feel somewhat satisfied.

Chloe responds with a small giggle and a nod of her head, long fingers wrapping around the handle of Beca’s suitcase and sliding Beca’s out of the way. “Deal.” By now, Beca knows better than to protest, and allows Chloe to wheel the case along for her.

Beca is busy studying the sign now, anyway.

“Are those headphones in the corner?”

“Yep. Wireless!”

“Fancy.”

 

* * *

 

They are all officially out of the Bellas house now. The whole experience of everybody leaving was of course emotional, but come fall, Emily will be recruiting a whole new ensemble of Bellas to fill the empty rooms, and Chloe is excited to come back and watch them perform. Chloe drives them by the house on the way to their Hyatt, and she cannot help the sharp ache that tugs at her chest. Chloe can tell by the way Beca is looking out of the window that she feels the same way, too.

“We made a lot of good memories there, huh?” Chloe muses contentedly, deciding to focus on the positives. Their futures are approaching fast, it is nice to be able to reminisce and remember how they got to where they all are now.

“The best,” Beca agrees. “It would’ve been nice to stay there another night or two.”

Chloe hums in response, though in her head she is wondering what exactly Beca means. Does she mean this weekend, while they’re all back in town for the wedding? Or is she talking about the last time the two of them were in the house together. The time when something almost happened.

Even now, Chloe doesn’t know what that _something_ is, but she just knows it was… Something. It was something. And it almost pains her to know that she’ll never know exactly what.

A part of Chloe had been worried that things would be uncomfortable between she and Beca now, considering that was the last time they’d actually seen each other in person, but it isn’t. It’s just like normal, and when they pull up to the Panera drive-thru, Chloe doesn’t even have to ask what Beca wants. She just knows. She knows her. She places their order, and Beca doesn’t need to correct her.

“Uh, do they not have food in LA?” Chloe questions with an arched brow as she watches Beca rummaging through their bag of food before they have even made it out of the parking lot.

“Nope. You have to survive on nature out there,” Beca teases playfully, pulling out a smaller bag. “Did we order chips?”

“For breakfast? No, I don’t think so. Why?”

“They gave us some,” Beca states with a gentle shrug, producing the chip bag and immediately tearing into it. The next thing Chloe knows, there is a potato chip waved beneath her mouth. “Open.”

Before they’d gotten in the car, Chloe hadn’t realized just how hungry she was, but the rest of the car ride is spent sharing the bag between the two of them; Chloe driving while Beca periodically pops a chip into her mouth for her. Chloe finds that she is very much ready for her actual breakfast by the time they arrive at their hotel.

It crosses her mind that they really should’ve just shared a suite, but at least they’re on the same floor, so that’s something. Naturally, Chloe doesn’t even wait for an invite once they make it to Beca’s room for the weekend. Chloe is the one to hold open the door while Beca carries their food and the sign inside, then Chloe follows right on after her, suitcase wheeling along behind her.

“This is literally identical to mine,” Chloe observes, finally letting go of the suitcase as the door swings shut. She immediately proceeds to flop down onto the freshly made bed. “Except mine is already covered in clothes.”

“Of course it is,” Beca responds with a playful roll of her tired eyes, subtle grin forming on her lips.

Apparently, they are both in need of food. They sit together in comfortable silence, both cross legged, as they devour their Panera breakfasts. Chloe helps herself to the television remote, powering it up and beginning to flick lazily through the channels.

It’s so comfortable. Whenever the two of them are together, it’s always just so comfortable, and maybe that isn’t something Chloe should be thinking about, because it’s only natural, isn’t it? To find yourself relaxed around a friend? Then again, Chloe’s attention also shouldn’t have drifted over to Beca, nor should her lips be curving upward at the corners as she watches her slouching back against the large hotel pillows, eyes hooded and sleep evidently taking over.

“I know you’re watching me,” Beca mumbles quietly, though she doesn’t open her eyes, nor does she tell Chloe to stop. In fact, Chloe is almost positive she sees a small, almost smug smile threatening Beca’s lips.

“You’re falling asleep,” Chloe points out, as if it isn’t the most obvious thing in the world. Beca responds with a barely audible mumble, and Chloe can’t help her own soft chuckle. “Don’t fight it, Becs. Just go to sleep. I can head back to my room and we can meet up again later.” They are done with their food by now, so Chloe begins to shuffle toward the edge of the bed, collecting their empty papers along the way.

Apparently, Beca has other ideas, though. Her eyes are still closed, she is still relaxed back against the crisp, white pillows, but her hand has reached out to settle gently on Chloe’s arm. Beca’s slim fingers wrap comfortably around pale skin. “No,” Beca mumbles sleepily, her grip tightening just a little bit, until she can begin to tug Chloe gently closer. Chloe doesn’t question it, she simply complies, until she is crawling to Beca’s side, another tired mumble falling lazily from Beca’s mouth. “Stay.”

And so Chloe does, she stays. Because what else does she have to do? Like she’d told herself previously, this is a _them_ trip now; everything they do, they’re going to do it together. Evidently, this included.

There it is again, that comfort. As Chloe settles in beside Beca, she is overcome with that familiar feeling of comfort, and she basks happily in it as her lids begin to grow heavy, too.

When Chloe wakes, Beca is still sleeping. Her hand is still settled on Chloe’s arm, exactly where it was when she’d pulled her back over to her, fingers still loosely holding on. The sight pulls a lazy smile across Chloe’s lips.

Chloe has to use the bathroom, but she doesn’t want to disturb Beca. So, she does her best to slip out of bed without waking her, though by the time she returns, Beca is sitting upright, hands rubbing at her eyes.

“Hey, sleepy head,” Chloe greets cheerfully, her voice soft as she makes her way back over to the bed.

“What time is it?” Beca begins to stretch, then to fumble around on the mattress. Chloe assumes she is searching for her phone. “How long did I sleep?”

“I don’t know,” Chloe admits, “I think you needed it, though.” Chloe feels something touching her knee, and lifts it to reveal Beca’s phone. She grabs it, offering it out toward Beca. “This what you’re looking for?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Beca accepts the device, blinking a couple times at the screen. Chloe notices the way her brows furrow. “The Bellas group chat has been blowing up. Apparently we’re supposed to go to lunch.”

Chloe’s phone is in her purse, she hasn’t seen the notifications yet, though the thought of leaving Beca’s room really isn’t so appealing to her. Maybe it’s selfish, but Chloe likes it when it’s just the two of them. Of course she adores all of her friends, and she’s excited to spend the day with them at the wedding tomorrow, but she hasn’t seen Beca in forever. She can allow herself to be a little selfish, right?

“Mm. I’m not super hungry,” Chloe shrugs nonchalantly, though she decides that she’ll leave the ball in Beca’s court. If Beca wants to go, they will, though Chloe sees the way Beca gently shakes her head as she begins to tap away at her screen.

“No, me either, let’s just stay here.”

Chloe is positive she hears the sound of Beca’s hungry stomach rumbling. Maybe Beca wants to be a little selfish, too.

 

* * *

 

While they opt to forgo the Bellas meet-up lunch, Amy makes a big deal about how they all have to go out tonight, and Chloe can’t deny the idea is appealing. So, she and Beca spend the day being lazy and watching reality television that Beca swears she isn’t interested in, but that Chloe can see her paying attention to, and talking about all of the fun things they’re going to do together in California, before Chloe departs to her room to go get ready.

Most of the Bellas are staying in the same hotel, so it really could be anyone when Chloe hears a knock at her door.

“One second!” Chloe calls breezily, setting down her eye shadow palette. She has already showered, and is in the process of fixing her makeup, while strutting around her room in a matching lace bra and underwear set. But, Chloe has really never been very shy when it comes to her body, so it doesn’t even cross her mind to cover up before swinging open the door.

“Oh, Beca. Hey!” Chloe greets brightly, flashing Beca a cheerful smile. For the briefest of moments, Beca seems almost taken aback, and Chloe is sure she sees blue eyes lowering toward her torso. But Beca soon clears her throat, gaze locking with her own, and Chloe makes a point not to question her.

“Hey. Uh… Wow, we almost wore the same outfit,” Beca jokes, motioning to Chloe’s bra and panties set. Chloe laughs lightly in response, finally taking in the sight of Beca’s actual outfit. Beca is wearing a fitted black romper that tugs inward at the waist, and her usually curled hair is neatly flat ironed.

“Mm, I like the one you went with,” Chloe comments, flashing Beca an encouraging smile. “What’s up? Are you ready to go?” Presumably not, considering Beca is currently barefoot.

“Almost. I can’t get the zipper to move,” Beca frowns, turning to the side to reveal that it is still half unfastened. “Can you try?”

It is somehow jammed pretty tightly against the track, but Chloe eventually frees it and slips the zipper the rest of the way up, effectively fastening Beca firmly into her romper. “There,” she beams, stepping back to admire her work, “Perfect.”

“Thanks, Chlo. Are you almost ready?”

Chloe nods. “Almost. You want me to come by your room and grab you when I am?”

They set their plan, and Beca disappears back to her room, leaving Chloe to finish up the rest of her routine.

It’s not just a Bellas night out, although all of the Bellas are there, Emily and the fake ID Beca helped her to get included. It’s more like a whole Barden reunion. Minus Jesse and Kyle; they’re the only two notable absences. The girls swear they won’t let themselves get too drunk, not when they have the wedding to attend tomorrow, but Amy of course buys everybody a round of shots as soon as they make it into the first bar of the night, and Chloe has a feeling there’ll be a few sore heads in the morning.

Chloe spends a little time with everybody. She is a social butterfly, it is all a part of her colorful personality, but she and Beca seem to gravitate toward one another more often than the others. That’s kind of ingrained into them at this point now, too; being together.

“You think we should try get Amy out of here?” Beca asks as she hands Chloe a fresh drink. So much for Beca never drinking jack and ginger again—it is the concoction they’re both currently enjoying. Chloe is buzzed, but not drunk. The same cannot be said for Amy.

“Maybe. She won’t be much use as a bridesmaid tomorrow if she’s still drunk,” Chloe frowns, sipping coolly on her drink as she glances across the bar toward a very unsteady Fat Amy.

“I’m gonna go tell her we’re leaving after this drink, okay? You know she won’t just leave when we say so. Gotta get her prepared,” Beca frowns, taking a gulp from her glass, before Chloe feels Beca’s hand settling on her arm and giving it a light squeeze. Chloe returns the motion with a soft smile and a short nod of her head in agreement, then Beca disappears to go attempt to corral Amy. There is an amused expression on Chloe’s face as she thinks to herself rather Beca than her.

Fortunately, with the reminder of the wedding tomorrow, Amy doesn’t put up too much of a fight. Chloe finishes up her drink as she orders a Lyft for the three of them back to their hotel.

Emily is usually the one they find themselves parenting, but Aubrey and Stacie seem to have that particular job taken care of tonight, so Chloe and Beca focus on getting Amy back to the hotel in one piece. Things seem to go according to plan until they make it back and Amy finds that she hasn’t brought her room key with her. Beca offers to go to the front desk and grab her another key, but Amy insists she should just stay in Beca’s room for the night. They decide not to fight her; the fact that they’ve even gotten Amy out of the club already is some kind of miracle.

They’re partway through helping Amy into bed when Chloe hears the sound of her ringtone coming from inside of her purse. She ignores it at first.

“You can answer, Chlo. I’ve got her,” Beca promises with a nod of her head. As Chloe releases her gentle grasp on Amy’s arm, she notices the way her friends both stumble together, and she can’t help her own giggle, despite the way she tries to stifle it.

“Not helpful,” Beca grumbles, steadying herself and Amy. Chloe just grins, reaching into her purse to retrieve her phone.

There was a time where seeing Kyle’s name on her screen would give her butterflies, but now it just makes her heart sink, and Chloe doesn’t even hesitate before rejecting the call. Apparently, the music had been pretty loud in the club, because she genuinely hadn’t heard any of the seven previous calls from him displayed on her notifications. Chloe doesn’t want to talk to him, but the fact that he has tried so consistently to get ahold of her is slightly worrying, and when her phone begins to ring again, she decides to accept the call.

“Hey.” Chloe presses the phone to her ear, her tone much less cheerful than usual. “What’s up?”

Chloe catches the sight of Beca’s curious gaze on her from the corner of her eye, so offers her a small, reassuring smile. It doesn’t seem to erase the unmistakable concern on Beca’s face.

“You’re drunk,” Kyle states plainly. Chloe hadn’t realized she was intoxicated enough for it to come across in her voice, especially in a mere three words, but evidently Kyle either just knows her very well, or she’s a little more tipsy than she had previously realized.

Come to think of it, the room _is_ spinning a little bit.

“You have to drink to answer my calls now?” Kyle asks dryly, the clear annoyance in his tone evident.

“What do you want, Kyle?”

After the length of time she has gone ignoring him, Chloe almost doesn’t expect a fight right off the bat, but she is really only kidding herself. Kyle proceeds to tell her how selfish she is, and to yell to the point that Chloe has to discreetly turn down the volume on her phone, not wanting Beca or Amy to hear.

“Everything okay?” Beca quietly mouths toward her. Chloe doesn’t respond, she simply plugs her free ear with her finger and makes her way out of Beca’s room, heading down the hallway and toward her own.

“Can you stop? Please,” Chloe begs exasperatedly, her voice a little shaky. At this point, Kyle really doesn’t even deserve her tears, but he’s just so _frustrating_. Chloe isn’t sad, just frustrated, and by the time she lets herself into her room, there are tears streaming freely down her cheeks.

And then she is yelling.

Chloe never yells. Well, rarely. But she’s just so sick of this. She’s sick of Kyle, she’s sick of him treating her the way he does. And if Chloe had been confused as to whether they were actually over or not before, she isn’t anymore. They’re done, and she is in the process of loudly telling him so when she feels the comforting embrace of soft fingers gently grasping her arms from behind her.

“Chlo, hey,” Beca soothes, “It’s okay. Give me the phone.”

Chloe doesn’t mean to struggle, she doesn’t mean to shake Beca off, but it doesn’t matter; Beca doesn’t let her, anyway. She doesn’t realize how hysterical she is until Beca is taking the phone from her hand, and Chloe no longer has anybody to yell at.

“Okay, listen,” Chloe hears Beca’s voice behind her, her previously soft tone now nowhere to be found. Beca is mad, Chloe can tell. She has one hand resting on Chloe’s arm still, the pad of her thumb brushing gently over pale skin, though there is nothing gentle about the way Beca is talking into the phone. “Seriously, dude, what is your problem?” There is the briefest pause, before Beca begins again, her voice now raised a little higher. “No, I don’t want to hear it. I don’t know exactly what’s going on here, but the last I heard, the two of you were broken up, so why are you _still_ doing this to her? Do you even know Chloe Beale?”

Chloe can’t hear the other side of the conversation, but she can imagine the way Kyle is arrogantly scoffing and likely telling Beca to mind her own business. Truth be told, Kyle has never liked Beca. Chloe has never understood why. It would seem that the feeling is mutual, though.

“No, you don’t,” Beca continues. The venom in her tone causes Chloe to turn around, watery eyes trained on Beca. “Because if you did, you’d know she’s literally the sweetest person on this God damn Earth, and she doesn’t deserve the constant shit you give her— No, Kyle, let me finish.” Beca barely pauses to take a breath, and Chloe finds herself blinking incredulously as she watches Beca’s side of the exchange.

“Chloe is one of the happiest, most bubbly people I’ve ever met. No, scratch that. She’s _the_ happiest, most bubbly person, she always has been. But whenever you’re around, whenever you’re there, I watch her completely lose that part of herself, because you are not good for her. You’re not good _to_ her.” Although Chloe hadn’t realized it before now, apparently this has been a long time coming for Beca. It seems as if she is finally getting to say all of the things she has held in for a long time, and all Chloe can do is continue to stare as Beca continues.

“And whatever you’re doing right now, whatever you’ve been doing for the last two years, you need to stop. Chloe is worth so much more than what you give her. She’s worth so much more than you,” Beca growls, her tone irritable and almost even a little frightening. “God, you don’t deserve her. Chloe Beale deserves the whole God damn world, and you _never_ fucking deserved her.”

In all the years Chloe has known Beca Mitchell, she has never seen her blow up. Not really. Beca will withdraw and she’ll recoil into her shell when she doesn’t like something, but Chloe has never experienced this reaction from her. It makes her heart race, it silences her. And Chloe doesn’t know whether that is a good or bad thing.

“Beca…” Chloe finally finds her voice.

“Yeah? Well fuck you, too,” Beca hisses into the phone, before pulling it away from her ear and ending the call.

Neither speaks, not at first. Chloe is still crying, though Beca’s outburst has stunned her some; the hysterics have slowed at least. Beca still looks angry, and Chloe can see the way her chest is rising and falling faster than usual.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Chloe eventually whispers into the silence to have fallen around them, tongue licking over the part in her dry lips.

Familiar eyes lock with her own, and Chloe is sure she can see a film of liquid coating Beca’s. “Do you know how long I’ve waited to do that?” Beca asks in a small voice. Evidently, she is surprised even at herself.

It makes sense. All of the times Beca has bit her tongue, all of the times she has held back when Chloe has just wished she would speak her mind, suddenly it just… all makes sense.

“Do you really think…” Chloe’s voice has quietened some, it sounds kind of choked up and pathetic, but it’s really not her focus. “Did you mean all of that?”

There is a look of confusion etched across Beca’s face now, and it is not just because they’re both mildly drunk. Sure, maybe the liquid courage had helped Beca along with her outburst, but they’re both plenty coherent. Beca is eyeing Chloe like she’s crazy. “Seriously?”

“What?”

“You have to ask me if I meant any of that? You have to know that you’re worth so much more than him, Chloe.” Beca looks kind of hurt by the implication, and there is an undeniable amount of passion to her tone. “You have to know that—”

Beca doesn’t get to finish her thought, because something has suddenly overtaken Chloe. She doesn’t know whether it is the alcohol in her system, or the way her adrenaline has begun pumping. Maybe it’s the admiration she feels for the woman before her, or maybe it’s something else entirely, but whatever it is, Chloe finds herself stepping forward and closing the gap between the two of them. Long fingers grab at the dark fabric of Beca’s romper and tug her body closer, until glossed lips are crashing together.

It takes Chloe a moment to register what she is doing, but it occurs to her that Beca doesn’t pull away. Beca doesn’t freeze up either, though. Chloe knows she isn’t too drunk to know what she’s feeling; Beca is kissing her back, and Chloe is the one to put what feels like a premature stop to it.

There is a silence again as Chloe pulls away, her fists still clutching onto the fabric grasped between them. Chloe can feel how fast her heart is racing, she can hear it in her ears. She can’t pull her stare from Beca’s, and it seems that Beca cannot break the lingering contact, either.

Chloe opens her mouth but nothing comes out, and Beca does the same at first, before finally finding her words.

“Are you okay?” Beca asks somewhat shakily. Her tone is now much quieter than it had been when she’d been yelling into the phone only moments prior. There is fear etched across Beca’s face, but her volume has evened out. Chloe doesn’t respond, so Beca does it for her. “You’re okay, okay? You’re going to be okay.”

Beca takes a small step back, and Chloe’s grip on her romper loosens.

“Bec,” Chloe begins almost pleadingly, but nothing follows. She is still staring, still in apparent disbelief.

“It’s okay.” Beca smooths down the front of her outfit, where Chloe’s grasp has caused a few wrinkles. She brings up a hand to run through her hair, then offers Chloe the smallest of smiles. In spite of everything, there is something so soothing about it, something so reassuring. Beca’s voice is small as she continues, “Go to bed, Chlo. I’m gonna go check on Amy.”

All Chloe can do is nod her head. She wants to speak. She has a lot to say, but apparently nothing wants to come out. Chloe just watches as Beca slips a chunk of mousy hair behind her ear, then turns to exit the room.

She doesn’t come back.


	5. Beca

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pretending your best friend didn't just kiss you in the heat of the moment is super easy, right? Definitely won't lead to anything else.......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song used at the wedding is [All About Us by He Is We ft. Owl City](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JnLE_2txSIA). Listen to it if you haven't already, it's super cute!

“Of course _you_ feel that way, you’ve been in love with her longer than I have.”

Beca is still reeling as she lays back into what are admittedly not quite the most comfortable couch cushions. Amy is sprawled across the bed, already snoring, so while not ideal, Beca has decided that she will take the couch for the night. She watches the ceiling fan as it swirls lazily around, perhaps not the best idea when there is alcohol in her system, and allows Kyle’s words to replay over in her foggy mind.

The sweet taste of Chloe’s raspberry gloss lingers on Beca’s lips, a stark reminder that Beca cannot help but realize she doesn’t want to lose.

Friends don’t do that. They just don’t. They don’t yell so passionately that it results in a desperate, seemingly long overdue kiss, they don’t taste each other’s lips against their own.

But what if what Kyle said… What if…

Beca can’t finish her thought—she _won’t_ finish her thought. Instead, she pushes herself up (maybe a little too quickly; she has to take a moment to steady herself) from the couch, then makes a beeline for her suitcase. The lid is already open, clothing spilling out over the sides, but Beca shoves by all of that, and instead opens up the inside pocket, quickly producing her slightly battered notebook.

And then Beca writes. She writes fiercely, and with purpose. The words flow out onto the page, and Beca wipes away any water that begins to form inexplicably in her tired eyes.

The next thing she knows, she is waking up to the sight of the morning sun streaming onto her face. Her pen is on the floor, while her notebook lays neatly on the couch beside her, closed. And Beca refuses to open it.

Amy is already gone by the time Beca finally forces herself from the couch. It makes sense, considering Amy is part of the wedding party. In reality, she probably should’ve been with the bride-to-be last night, rather than getting wasted with half of the guests, but Amy has always done things her own way, so no one will be shocked. Besides, Rachel is evidently close enough to Amy to know how she is.

In her sleepy daze, it takes Beca a moment to remember the night before—at least the finer details. Though, when they do come flooding back to her, they hit her hard, and apparently somewhere in the chest region, because Beca’s heart begins to ache. She realizes that it is for so many reasons, too.

It doesn’t surprise her, when she finds her phone hidden among the couch cushions, that there is a text message from Chloe on her screen. Normally, Beca would race to open it, but not today, not right now. Instead, Beca’s focus is on the wallpaper behind her notifications: the photo of she and Jesse from the graduation party—the one where his lips are pressed to her cheek, Beca wearing that dress Jesse had liked so much. Beca lifts a somewhat shaky hand, fingertips brushing over pale skin, and if she thinks about it hard enough, it is almost as if she can still feel him right there.

But she can still _taste_ Chloe. Beca’s fingers trace almost hesitantly along her dry lips, like if she moves any faster she’ll wipe away a memory that she so desperately wants to savor, and it’s Chloe she can feel. Chloe, not Jesse. And Beca knows that that’s not okay, she knows that none of this is okay. But she doesn’t know how to fix it, not really.

She does know what to do to at least _try_ to make things right, though.

Beca doesn’t consider herself to be a nervous person, not usually. But, as she unlocks her phone and thumbs through her recent call list, she notices that she is shaking.

But this is a long time coming. It’s not just because of what happened last night, it’s not just because Chloe kissed her and Beca didn’t even hesitate to kiss her back. It’s not because Beca wants to do it again, regardless of her better judgment. Something between she and Jesse just hasn’t felt right for a while now, and Beca hasn’t been able to put her finger on exactly what.

Somehow, it makes sense now.

“Hey, beautiful.”

The words ring through the phone in a manner that causes Beca’s stomach to flip upside down, they cut into her thoughts like the sharpest knife. Jesse sounds so collected, so casual—so _normal_. And Beca hates that, she hates what she’s about to do to him. But it’s necessary, she knows it’s necessary. Beca knows that, in the long run, she is doing what’s right. Not just for herself, nor just for Jesse, but for everyone involved.

Beca finally finds her voice, and doesn’t realize how tired it sounds at first. “Hey,” she eventually responds, trying hard to make her tone sound as normal as possible. Though, she feels like she is failing. If she is, apparently Jesse doesn’t notice, so at least there’s that.

“Is this urgent, Bec?” Jesse asks somewhat distractedly. “You know I love hearing from my girl, but my boss is only out of the studio for a few minutes, I can’t really talk. Is everything okay?”

The short answer? No, it’s not okay. Nothing is okay, in fact, but how can she say that right now? It is a normal Saturday morning for Jesse; he’s at his new job, he’s trying to impress his new colleagues. Beca can’t drop this bombshell on him right now, she can’t break his heart right now. She just can’t.

“Oh, sure,” Beca says, quickly clearing her throat in an attempt to rid her voice of any residual hesitation. Her whole mouth feels dry, and she suddenly wishes she’d thought ahead and stocked up on water last night. “I was just calling to check in.” It concerns her how easy it is for her to lie, especially to Jesse. But she doesn’t have another choice, not right now. “Maybe call me back when you’re done with work?”

Either Jesse is distracted or Beca is doing a better job at keeping her emotions in check than she realizes, because as he continues, he shows no signs of.. well, anything really. He just sounds like his regular, usual self. And why shouldn’t he? Jesse doesn’t know. Jesse doesn’t know anything.

“Sure I will. I think I’m supposed to get off pretty early today, so I’ll call you back as soon as I’m done, okay?”

“Yeah,” Beca nods her head. Her tone is light, though her facade is heavy. “Yeah, call me later.”

“Will do. Love you,” Jesse says, just as casually and coolly as ever.

“Yeah.” Beca’s thumb hovers over the end call button, and it is almost like she has to force her own mumbled response, “You too.”

For a moment, Beca just sits, basking in the silence surrounding her. A part of her, a selfish part in her opinion, feels relieved, because she hasn’t had to hear Jesse break down. The larger portion, however, knows that it is an inevitable conversation, no matter how hard it is going to be, and Beca wishes she could’ve just gotten it over and done with already. Apparently, things don’t always work out the way you would hope, and Beca is coming to terms with that. At least she thinks she is, anyway.

Never before has she been fearful to open a text message, much less one from her best friend, but Beca’s thumb is shaking once again as she scrolls to the notification from Chloe Beale.

 **Chloe  
** _I’m sorry._

Two words. Two words is all it takes to have Beca’s stomach twisting into the tightest knot. She understands the apology, she understands why Chloe deems it necessary—they’re best friends, friends don’t wrap themselves up in a heat of the moment kiss. And Beca has a boyfriend, which is perhaps the worst part of all. What she doesn’t understand is why those two words make her chest tighten so harshly, why they make her heart ache or the backs of her eyes begin to sting with unwelcome, salty tears.

But if Beca thinks about it, _really_ thinks about it, maybe she does understand it. Because she doesn’t want Chloe to think of last night as a mistake.

 _It’s okay, Chlo. We’re okay_ , Beca begins to type in response, though finds herself erasing the message quickly. They have a wedding to go to, they have someone’s special day to celebrate with them, and now just… It just isn’t the time.

 

* * *

 

The wedding reception is the next time Beca sees Chloe, at least to speak to her. She hates herself for it, she really does, but she tactfully ignores her during their ride to the venue. The other Bellas are there, they serve as a buffer, a distraction, and nobody knows anything is different. Nobody but Chloe, at least, whose gaze locks with Beca’s more than once, though they both break the contact just as quickly.

It is harder to do that when they find their seats, however. The reception is taking place outside, in an admittedly very picturesque setting. The circular tables are covered over with pristine white cloths, neatly pressed purple and gold ribbons lining the vintage chairs. Place cards display each person’s name, and it neither surprises nor upsets Beca to find that hers is marked clearly next to Chloe’s. It is not like she doesn’t _want_ to be around her, it’s just that she doesn’t know how. Not until she has gotten to speak to Jesse, anyway.

“Can we talk?”

Chloe’s whispered question comes much later than Beca had expected. They spend the first hour or so talking with their fellow Bellas, pretending everything is okay. But people begin to rise from their seats eventually, wanting to go mingle, and only a small handful are left seated. Fortunately, those who remain are a few seats away, at the opposite side of the table, and they are all seemingly occupied with one another already, so the two at least have _some_ small level of privacy. It’s not quite enough, but it’ll do for now.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Chlo,” Beca responds in a hushed tone. Softly, she shakes her head, loose curls tickling her bare shoulders, and finally makes eye contact with Chloe once again. There is a sincerity to her tone, and what Beca hopes is a reassuring look written across her face. Beca isn’t angry, nor is she upset—at least not with Chloe—and she doesn’t want Chloe to think that she is.

It is decidedly unlike Chloe to keep her thoughts to herself. Ever since Beca met her back in freshman year, Chloe has been very honest and open with her words, so it is almost confusing, watching the way she opens her mouth to respond and then promptly closes her lips.

“We’re okay,” Beca promises quietly. The smallest, faintest of smiles rises to her lips. “It’s okay.”

It is clear that Chloe has more to say, more to add, but Beca sees her simply nod her head. Familiar blue eyes grow wide and sad, heartbreakingly so, but that seems to be the most Chloe is giving away.

“I’m going to go dance with the girls then,” Chloe finally says, sending a small, apologetic smile Beca’s way.

A part of Beca wants to stop her, to reach out and take Chloe’s hand, pull her back down beside her. But she doesn’t. Instead, she just lets her go. Because what else can she do? At least right now, what else can she do?

Beca makes a point not to watch Chloe. She wants to, and she feels her gaze drifting toward her on multiple occasions, but she pulls her focus away. The evening light has begun to dim by the time Beca is finally pulled from her own thoughts. The cliché tea lights cover each table and light the way, rows of off-white string lights twinkling like stars overhead, and Beca’s eyes are down on her phone. She is willing it to ring, to see Jesse’s name pop up on her screen.

“He’s probably still working.”

The voice interrupting her thoughts causes Beca’s head to snap up, eyes narrowing in on its owner. “What?”

“Jesse,” Amy states plainly, helping herself to Chloe’s assigned seat. Amy’s hair has remained neatly styled, and her dress compliments her figure perfectly. She is the picture of elegance, though in true Amy fashion, she slouches in her seat, and reaches for a spare chip from Chloe’s paper plate. The sight is all very Amy, so much so that it makes Beca laugh just a little bit, and she realizes it is the first time she has laughed all day.

“That’s who you’re waiting for, right? You’re waiting for your boyfriend to get off work and call you.”

Beca eyes Amy for a moment, before simply shrugging a shoulder. Her phone is now laid face-down on the table.

“I know you’re not into this whole wedding thing, but you’ve looked like a zombie all day. What’s wrong?” Amy prompts gently.

“What? Nothing’s wrong. Just,” Beca pauses, shoulder shrugging once more as she motions toward her phone on the table, “You know, waiting on Jesse.”

Amy is listening, though her sight has drifted elsewhere, and Beca realizes she is watching Chloe. Well, Chloe and the other Bellas, but of course that fiery red hair is the thing drawing Beca’s gaze in. Chloe’s blue eyes sparkle like sapphires under the string lights, and it is difficult not to notice.

“Right,” Amy nods, tone just as nonchalant as ever as she reaches for another chip. “I liked your song.”

At the statement, Beca’s dark brows tug tightly together. “What? What song?”

“Friends don’t call you in the middle of the night… Couldn’t tell you why… They just wanted to say hi,” Amy recalls without missing a beat. Some of the words are incorrect, but Beca knows what Amy is talking about, and she is sure her heart almost stops. “That song. It’s a song, right? An original?”

“What the hell, Amy? You read my notebook?” Beca hisses venomously, sitting further upright in her seat. Her voice is hushed, but there is clear anger behind her words.

Fortunately, Amy doesn’t find Beca intimidating in any manner, and simply shrugs a shoulder lamely in response.

“It was on the floor by the couch when you were sleeping, I went to pick it up for you and I couldn’t help seeing what was there.”

Beca doesn’t have a response. She knows Amy is a curious, inquisitive person, she knows this is entirely in her character. That doesn’t mean Beca is exactly _happy_ about it, but what can she do?

“That could’ve been my journal for all you know, you don’t read people’s journals,” Beca grumbles, though she knows there is no use in fighting.

“Well, was it? Your journal?”

Beca shoots Amy a look, though she doesn’t say anything, and Amy responds with a short nod of her head. “That’s what I thought. So who was it about?”

Beca picks up her phone, just to give herself something to do, something to distract herself from looking at Amy, or from allowing her gaze to move toward Chloe again. “I’m not doing this right now,” Beca murmurs, adamantly keeping her eyes down on the blank screen. “It was just a song, okay? It wasn’t about anybody.”

“Alright.” Amy may know how to push, but she knows that Beca is as stubborn as they come, too. Evidently, Amy knows how and when to pick her battles, and Beca has made it clear that for this one, right now in this moment, it’s just not the right time.

Maybe it never will be the right time.

“I’m gonna go see the girls,” Amy states into what Beca perceives as an uncomfortable air of quiet, soon rising from her seat. Not before grabbing a third and final chip, of course. Amy pops it into her mouth, then reaches for Beca’s hand. Before she knows it, Beca is being tugged up from her seat, too.

“What are you doing? I don’t feel like dancing right now,” Beca whines brattily, though she doesn’t put up too much of a fight. She doesn’t willingly walk herself over to the dance floor, but she allows Amy to lead her with less force than an outsider may assume.

“Guys, this is Beca,” Amy jokes fondly, motioning toward Beca once they have reached the small circle of their friends. “I don’t know if you know that or not because she hasn’t spent any time with us today, but she wants to now.”

While Beca rolls her eyes, she shoots an apologetic look toward the girls. She hasn’t meant to be so anti-social all day, she has just had a lot on her mind. In fact, that almost seems like an understatement. It is true that Beca doesn’t feel like dancing, but she also doesn’t feel like being the only loser on the dance floor standing still, so she sways a little to the beat of the music, and forces herself to join in with casual conversation between her friends.

Beca isn’t paying much attention to the music—a surefire way to tell there’s something not quite right with Beca Mitchell; she _always_ pays attention to the music—but as one song ends and another begins, she hears the squealing sound of Aubrey’s excited voice. “Aw, I love this song so much!” Aubrey states, gently taking Stacie by both hands.

“It’s that Owl City one, right? I know it,” Stacie shrugs a shoulder, coolly lacing her fingers through Aubrey’s and tugging her closer.

It is a slow song, not something you would typically dance in a group to, so everybody pairs off. Aubrey and Stacie are together, Jessica and Ashley are practically one entity by this point, so of course they pair off, and the rock on Emily’s finger kind of means she has to cuddle up to Benji. Not that she minds, Beca is sure.

Amy, Chloe and Beca are the three left without partners, and Beca decides to take it as her chance to bounce.

“Wait, is that…” Amy cranes her neck to look around the two of them. Her eyes squint into the distance, both Beca and Chloe’s following suit. “Is Bumper here?” Amy gasps dramatically. “I think he is.” And with that, Amy is scurrying off toward her ex-boyfriend. The one who is most definitely _not_ at the wedding. They all know that—Amy included.

There is a stillness in the air now, almost as if they are the only two in the whole place. Beca tries hard not to look at Chloe, she really does, but it proves impossible, and before she knows it, their gazes are locking with one another’s. That is all it takes to draw Beca in completely, to have her instantly hooked.

“You don’t have to dance with me,” Chloe murmurs almost bashfully. Beca plays dumb, as if she hadn’t heard her, and takes a small step closer anyway. Beca’s arms rise to wrap easily around Chloe’s neck, and the heels the two are wearing help to even out their slight height difference as Chloe’s arms snake almost cautiously around Beca’s middle in return.

And then they dance. They don’t talk, they just dance, with the music playing softly around them.

 _The room’s hush hush, and now’s our moment  
_ _Take it in, feel it all and hold it  
_ _Eyes on you, eyes on me, we’re doing this right._

When Beca’s arms tighten, so do Chloe’s, and Beca really isn’t sure which one of them had done it first. Their bodies press up tightly against one another’s, and their feet move slowly in time with the song. Beca wonders if Chloe can feel how hard her heart is hammering against her chest. She wonders if Chloe knows how breathtaking she looks tonight, how perfectly her dress makes her bright eyes pop.

 _‘Cause lovers dance when they’re feeling in love  
_ _Spotlight’s shining, it’s all about us  
_ _It’s all about us  
_ _And every heart in the room will melt  
_ _This is a feeling I’ve never felt but  
_ _It’s all about us._

This isn’t right, so how come it feels like it is? Standing here with Chloe, a cheesy love song playing in the background as they sway slowly together, it’s not right. The fact that it _feels_ so right is what makes it all the more wrong, and Beca knows she has to put a stop to it. She doesn’t want to, but she has to, and soon she finds that she is reluctantly pulling back, her arms unwrapping from around Chloe’s slender frame. Though, then she makes the mistake of looking at her, of letting those ocean blue eyes pull her in.

 _Suddenly I’m feeling brave  
_ _I don’t know what’s got in to me, why I feel this way  
_ _Can we dance real slow?  
_ _Can I hold you? Can I hold you close?_

Instead of pulling right the way back, Beca allows her arms to fall in something like slow motion, until her hands are catching delicately onto Chloe’s. Their fingers lace as if they’re supposed to be intertwined that way. As the chorus picks back up, Beca releases one hand, but only to twirl Chloe around gently on the spot. Chloe responds with a more normal, natural smile than the obligatory soft, apologetic ones they have been flashing one another’s way all day, and instead of catching her free hand again once she is turned back toward her, Beca gently tugs her closer. She pulls Chloe’s body flush against her own once more.

They don’t speak. They barely even move, in fact. Instead, they just look at each other— _really_ look at each other. Beca takes in the way Chloe’s pristinely curled hair is lightened perfectly by the lights above them, the way her glossy lips are parted just a small fraction. Beca is close enough to see the way Chloe’s mascara has flaked just a little bit beneath her eyes, and she is almost certain she can feel a fast, rhythmic heartbeat that isn’t her own.

“I really am sorry, Becs,” Chloe whispers quietly, sincerely, her own eyes studying Beca’s face. The words, while necessary and understandable, feel like a knife through Beca’s stomach once more, and Beca finds herself shaking her head as she holds Chloe closely against her—just holds her.

“Don’t be,” Beca finally says in the smallest yet surest of voices. She feels the way her gaze has dropped to Chloe’s lips, full and inviting, but forces it back up again. Suddenly, Beca’s throat feels a little dry. “I don’t want you to be sorry. I don’t…” Beca pauses, considering maybe just ending her thought there, but Chloe is looking at her expectantly, and Beca can’t keep it to herself this time. She continues in a quiet murmur, “I don’t want you to regret it.”

Chloe’s response is barely audible, but it’s there. It rings loudly in Beca’s ears, because all she can focus on right now is the woman in her arms. Nobody else, nothing else; just Chloe.

“I would never regret kissing you, Beca.”

There is a lump forming in Beca’s throat, one that she has to hastily swallow around as she eyes Chloe almost intensely. For half a second, Beca forgets where they are, she forgets why she isn’t supposed to be thinking about leaning in and closing the gap between them. But, as the music stops, so does Beca. She sees her own disappointment mirrored on Chloe’s face.

“Chlo, I have to go do something, okay?” Beca whispers, gently standing Chloe upright. It feels like the most difficult thing she can think of right now, parting from Chloe, but she can’t keep doing this. Not like this. Fortunately, Chloe doesn’t stop her, and soon they are both releasing the hold they have on each other’s hands. Beca was right, she realizes as she makes her way back over to their table: leaving Chloe in that exact moment really was one of the more difficult things she has ever had to do.

But the next one might be harder.

Beca has no right to feel angry as she picks up her phone and sees that there are no missed calls from Jesse. There are no texts, nothing. He _has_ to be done with work by now, so why hasn’t he called her? But Beca doesn’t get to play the victim here, she doesn’t _want_ to play the victim. She just… She needs to talk to Jesse. Beca really, really needs to talk to him.

The bathrooms are located inside (thankfully the bride and groom don’t have their guests using porta-potties), and Beca lifts her phone to her ear as she makes her way swiftly toward the building, the sound of its ringing almost deafening to her.

Jesse picks up on the third ring.

“Babe, hey! I’m so sorry, I went out with some of the guys after work. I was going to call you back when I got home, promise. How’s the wedding?”

There is background noise, and it sounds like Jesse is still out. It is decidedly still not the time nor the place, but Beca cannot hold back any longer. She can’t keep Jesse hanging on the way she is, she can’t keep fighting with her head and her heart. She is sure that, if she does, it is eventually going to drive her crazy.

“I’m not calling about the wedding,” Beca says in a colder tone than intended. This isn’t Jesse’s fault. None of this is Jesse’s fault, and Beca truly hates herself for the way she is acting.

“Uh, okay. Is something wrong?”

“I can’t do this anymore, Jesse.” While her tone is still cold, it is directed at herself, and Beca can physically feel her voice cracking. She can feel her throat growing more and more dry, the moisture all seemingly welling up behind her eyes instead.

“What? Bec, what are you talking about? You can’t do what? Talk to me.”

Beca quietly closes the bathroom door behind herself, the wall fortunately holding her upright as she leans back against it. Compared to outside, it is almost frighteningly quiet in here, so much so that Beca feels like she can hear her own heartbeat.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Jesse. I can’t believe I’m doing this over the phone, I know that that’s so fucked up, and you deserve so much better than that—”

“Hey, whoa. No, what are you doing right now? Are you breaking up with me?”

It’s so cliché, the whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ thing, but in this instance, the cliché really does apply. Beca’s tongue flicks over her dry lips, eyes closing tightly. “I’m sorry, it’s just not working anymore. The distance, and—”

“Is there someone else?” There is a colder tone to Jesse’s voice now, too. Understandably so. Beca can hear the way he is shaking, and she doesn’t realize that she hasn’t responded until she hears the sound of a quiet sob from the other end of the phone. “There’s someone else,” Jesse repeats.

Now isn’t the time. It’s not the time to get into the whys and the hows of everything. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t, because Beca is choked up now, too. And not because this is the end for them, which perhaps speaks volumes really. Beca just hates the thought of upsetting Jesse in the way she is, she hates that she is the reason that his heart is hurting, the reason that he is crying.

“I have to go,” Beca stammers, her own self-hatred growing deeper by the second. “I’m so sorry, Jesse.”

“Bec—”

Jesse doesn’t even get to finish his sentence before Beca is hanging up the phone, a shaky breath falling from her lips. There is a large chunk of her that can’t believe this has happened. It’s going to take her a while to digest it, to really realize the severity of this whole thing, but that selfish part of her, the part that wanted to kiss Chloe, the part that could so carelessly end a long-term relationship over the phone, that part of her feels relieved.

And if Beca didn’t feel like she was in the wedding mood before, that was nothing in comparison to now. Beca has to leave, she realizes. She has to dry her tear-soaked cheeks, clean up her mascara, and she has to get out of there, because her mind is racing and nothing makes any sense anymore.

Well, one thing does.

“Beca?”

There is a faint knock on the door, followed by a moment of hesitation before it begins to swing slowly open.

At first, there is a wary look painted across Chloe’s pale features. Though, it takes her only seconds to register the devastation on Beca’s face, the way her eyes are still shining with salty tears, and soon Chloe is stepping toward her and wrapping her up in a tight, comforting embrace, one that Beca allows herself to completely fall apart in.

“It’s okay,” Chloe whispers soothingly, long fingers brushing delicately through mousy hair, “It’s okay, you’re okay. I’ve got you.”

It is not often that this happens, that Chloe is the one to comfort Beca, because Beca is just so damn good at keeping her feelings bottled up, at keeping her emotions locked tightly away. But they have seemingly switched roles tonight, and Beca allows Chloe to protect her, to make her feel as safe as she hopes she makes Chloe feel when Chloe is the one breaking down.

Beca rarely cries. Even when she’s alone, Beca rarely cries. She is good at distracting herself, at staying too busy to lay everything bare, but she is audibly sobbing now. So much so that she is wetting the fabric of Chloe’s light blue dress with her salty tears. Fortunately, Chloe doesn’t seem to mind. Chloe just holds her, she comforts her. Her fingers continue to brush smoothly through Beca’s curls, and Chloe whispers hushed words of encouragement, telling Beca everything is going to be okay, until Beca finally feels herself believing it—until she finally begins to calm down.

Beca doesn’t know how long they have been standing here. She does know that she is grateful that nobody else has tried to come in here, though she is positive they would leave if they walked in on this scene, anyway. Finally, Beca forces some amount of composure upon herself, but when she pulls back, she doesn’t move all the way. Beca finds herself still wrapped up in Chloe’s arms, watery eyes staring up into Chloe’s. She notices the way Chloe’s blue hues are sparkling with liquid, too, and Beca tries to swallow down her feelings.

“Okay?” Chloe whispers shakily, lips parting slightly to allow her tongue to swipe through the gap. Beca watches her, studying her every movement, before gently nodding her head.

“You meant that before, right?” Beca asks, her croaky voice somewhat strained. Chloe doesn’t respond, she just looks down at her as if to question what exactly she is talking about, so Beca clarifies. “That you don’t regret it.”

Chloe’s expression softens, her confusion fading quickly. There is a kindness to her eyes, something that pulls Beca in so completely. “Of course I meant it, Becs,” Chloe says, voice gentle and comforting. One arm remains in place around Beca’s slender frame, while the other hand rises to allow Chloe to delicately brush away the remaining tears from Beca’s cheek with the soft pad of her thumb.

There is that stillness again, that deafening quiet from before, but it speaks the words they don’t necessarily need to say. That is nothing new for them, they have always been able to communicate by looks and lingering stares alone. But this one lasts longer than usual, it is fueled by an undeniable intensity that Beca can’t quite explain.

At least not until she is leaning upward, her lips pressing softly, for the second time, against Chloe’s.

The kiss lasts mere seconds, and Beca is the one to pull back, but there is just so much _meaning_ behind it. Beca feels her heart beginning to thud harder again. She can practically _see_ the tension in the room, but all she can focus on is Chloe—just Chloe.

And friends don’t do that.

Then again, friends don’t lean back in the way Beca does, they don’t reconnect their lips with further force, and they definitely don’t savor the way the other kisses back with just as much fervor.

No, friends don’t do that.

But they do.


	6. Chloe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca and Chloe leave the wedding to head back to their hotel together. Totally innocent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep telling myself this might be nothing, but one look in your eyes and, God, there's something ♪

Chloe is trapped inside of a fairytale. Well, no, it is more like a romcom, she supposes. Whatever it is, it isn’t real life, it can’t be.

But it is. That feeling of soft lips pressed firmly against her own, no intention of a gap forming between them, it is both so sobering and so real. Yet, it is like something from a fantasy, because Chloe has imagined this more times than she cares to admit. Chloe has imagined how it would feel to kiss Beca Mitchell, to have her held tightly in her arms. She has watched the way Beca’s lips move, imagined them pressing to her own. Of course, there are no tears in Chloe’s fantasies, but in this reality they are very apparent. Salty liquid soaks Chloe’s rosy cheeks like lukewarm drops of the saddest rain, and she can taste them bitterly as they fall toward her lips.

“Lock the door,” Chloe hears Beca mumble faintly into their moment. Her voice is both strained and desperate, a tone that Chloe doesn’t altogether recognize. It catches her off guard, and as much as she wants to, as much as she does take a second or two to consider doing exactly what Beca has asked, it is that taste of salty tears hitting her tongue that has Chloe forcing herself back to reality, to finally pulling away from what is arguably the best kiss of her entire life.

Chloe’s chest rises and falls faster as she glances down toward Beca, and she instantly notices the way Beca’s is doing the same.

“Chloe, lock the door,” Beca repeats a little more firmly this time. It’s just as difficult the second time to force herself not to do it. Chloe is positive she wouldn’t be able to ignore a third.

“Bec, no,” Chloe shakes her head softly, the ends of her auburn curls slightly damp as they sweep against her pale shoulders. Beca doesn’t respond, so Chloe shoots an almost apologetic look her way. “Not here.”

Has Chloe ever had sex in a public bathroom before? Sure. Chloe Beale is adventurous, she’s very free with her body (and if you were to ask her, why shouldn’t she be? She has a lot to be confident about), but none of those times prior have ever meant anything, and that’s not going to be how things transpire between she and Beca. Everything between them means something; it always has. Chloe is not going to let the desperate ache of her body stop that now.

“Talk to me,” Chloe continues in that same soft, hushed tone. Her hand rises once more, long fingers delicately pushing a chunk of brown hair behind Beca’s ear. She studies Beca, notices the way her earrings all match today. Any other time, the sight would make Chloe smile, but not right now. There are clearly more pressing matters at hand. “What’s going on?”

For half a second, Chloe thinks that Beca is going to fight her. She thinks she’s going to tell her to lock the door again, but Beca simply stares back up at her, their gazes meeting the same way they have so many times before. And then Beca is taking a small step back, her arms unwrapping slowly from around Chloe’s slender frame, and Chloe notes that she instantly misses the contact.

“You’re right,” Beca murmurs quietly, volume muffled by the way her hands have blocked her mouth as she has lifted them to rub over her face. There is mascara staining Beca’s pale skin, her cheeks are tracked with tears causing her light foundation to run, her eyes are swollen and puffy. But if you were to ask Chloe, right here in this very moment, Beca has truly never looked so perfect.

And that almost feels like a selfish thought.

“I don’t know what I’m doing.”

That, right there, that simple sentence, is why Chloe isn’t kicking herself for stopping whatever was about to happen here. She doesn’t want to be an in the moment, potential mistake, something Beca will regret later.

“It’s okay,” Chloe soothes sincerely, her tone hopefully reassuring. A part of her wants to take a step closer, to close the distance between them, but she knows Beca by now. She knows how independent Beca is, how if she wants to come to her, she will. So, Chloe just watches her carefully as Beca looks over her reflection in the mirror, ready to reach out if need be. “Bec, do you want to tell me what happened?”

“No.” Chloe sees the way Beca shakes her head in response, familiar blue eyes meeting her own in the bright reflection of the bathroom mirror. Beca’s tears cause a heartbreaking shine. “No, I just want to get out of here.”

“Okay,” Chloe nods her head in understanding. She shoots a small, comforting smile toward Beca through the reflection. “I’ll order you an Uber.”

Of course, Chloe wants to go with her. It is evident that Beca shouldn’t be alone right now, but Chloe is also not trying to push. There is an obvious boundary, and while it is not one she usually takes much notice of—Chloe is guilty of missing a beat where personal space is involved—right now it feels important for her to respect it.

She and Beca have crossed enough boundaries for one day, after all.

As she slips her phone from her pocket ( _of course_ her dress has pockets) and pulls up the Uber app, Chloe hears Beca’s voice in the background. She can tell she has begun to compose herself by now. Beca is still sniffling, still trying to properly calm down, but she is at least getting there. Beca’s words sound more strong now, more sure. “Will you come with me?”

Blue eyes drift upward to study Beca’s expression, and Beca clears her throat as her line of sight meets with Chloe’s.

“I mean, you don’t have to. You don’t have to leave the wedding. I’m fine on my own.”

Even now, even when she is obviously at an admittedly _low_ low, Beca is still putting up those heavy walls, she is still wielding that strong facade around her tough exterior, and Chloe can’t help the way she feels her mouth forming into a small smile in response. She bites down on her lip to keep herself from doing so openly, of course—now really is not the time. And Chloe doesn’t feel like smiling, she really, really doesn’t, because her best friend is going through something and she needs her. It’s just that… It’s just so _Beca Mitchell_. And Chloe has missed her. These past few weeks apart, Chloe has really, really missed her.

“Of course I’ll go with you,” Chloe states simply, locking the screen and slipping her phone back into her pocket, “It should be here soon.” Chloe is still trying to keep her distance at least somewhat, still trying to give Beca space to breathe, but she can’t help herself as she finally moves from her spot, making her way into one of the bathroom cubicles to grab a wad of tissue. She quickly heads a little more certainly toward Beca.

“Here,” Chloe offers, dampening the tissue under the faucet, then turns to face Beca. She pauses momentarily, giving Beca the option to move away or refuse her help, but she doesn’t. Instead, Beca drops her hands from where they have been kind of uselessly smearing her makeup more obviously across her skin, and Chloe takes a small step closer. Carefully, she lifts a hand to gently dab away the darker mascara spots from beneath Beca’s puffy eyes.

As Chloe works, she can feel Beca’s watery stare on her. Chloe tries hard not to meet it, and instead focuses on trying to clean her up a little bit. If you were to ask Chloe who the strongest person she knows is, her answer would be Beca Mitchell every time. This doesn’t make her weak, the fact that she is now allowing her guard to fall slightly or her emotions to surface. If anything, it only makes her stronger, and that thought is running through Chloe’s mind the whole time.

“You don’t have to do that,” Beca says, voice a little croaky. In spite of her words, she doesn’t actually stop her. “You don’t have to take care of me.”

Chloe pauses for the briefest moment, but only to meet Beca’s gaze. “Really? How many times have you taken care of me when I’ve been sad?” Chloe asks, the question entirely rhetorical. Satisfied that Beca’s face looks a little less blotchy, hopefully enough to avoid questions, Chloe lowers her hand, admiring her work with a soft smile. “There, good as new.”

While her tone is still somber, Beca allows a small laugh to fall from her lips as she gazes over her slightly disheveled reflection in the mirror. “Hardly.”

“Fine. But better than it was five minutes ago,” Chloe shrugs a shoulder, shooting Beca a gentle smile. She disposes of the damp, mascara covered tissue. “Come on, we should go say bye to Rachel and the girls before the Uber gets here. We can just say one of us has a headache or something, nobody will ask questions.”

It is automatic, the way Chloe’s hand stretches out toward Beca, and she can’t help but take note of the way that it just feels so natural, so normal, the way Beca’s fingers intertwine with her own. She feels Beca’s grip tighten some, and Chloe responds with a reassuring squeeze of her own, having already decided she won’t be letting go.

While a few of the Bellas pout about them leaving early, nobody actually stops them, and the light is dim enough that they can’t see the missing makeup from Beca’s face. It was like Chloe had said, nobody had asked questions. Neither would’ve had answers, even if they had.

At least Chloe wouldn’t, anyway.

The car ride back to the hotel is fairly short. Chloe can imagine that if they’d stayed until the end, there would’ve been more of a struggle to get out of there as quickly. It had seemed like most of Barden University’s alumni were in attendance, after all. But Chloe enjoys the stillness of this; of just the two of them seated side by side, their hands still clasped comfortably together, fingers still tightly locked.

Usually, Chloe is the type to talk to her Uber driver. (Chloe is the type to talk to _anybody_.) But not tonight. Tonight, she focuses on the brightness of the passing lights outside of the car window, and of the comfortable feeling of Beca’s hand held firmly in her own. Chloe’s thumb ghosts feather lightly along the back of Beca’s knuckles, something of a natural instinct, and she hopes that her feeble attempts at providing a comfort of some kind are not completely missing the mark.

Stolen glances are nothing new, and Chloe is really never the most subtle with them, especially not when it comes to Beca. However, she doesn’t think it’s right to sit and stare so openly at her when there is clearly something going on, something that Beca doesn’t want to talk to Chloe about. Or maybe she does, maybe she is just waiting until it’s just the two of them, somewhere a little more secure than a public restroom. Against her better judgment, Chloe finds herself glancing over anyway. She studies the way Beca’s curls have fallen throughout the day, the way they’ve loosened and become somewhat less uniform, how the strap of her dress has caused a small indent across the back of her shoulder, the pale skin around it a soft shade of pink.

It is only when they finally pull up to their hotel that Chloe pulls her gaze away from Beca Mitchell.

And she doesn’t want to. She really, really doesn’t want to.

Chloe’s room is the first one they come to. She doesn’t even ask Beca if she wants to come in, she simply tugs her along behind her, and Beca doesn’t resist. The sound of high heels clicking against the ground is all there is to break the silence around them, and Chloe is almost waiting for the sound of a desperate sob to escape from Beca behind her. But it doesn’t. Beca does let out a short sigh, though, her hand freeing itself gently from Chloe’s, and then she is plopping down lazily onto the bed, with Chloe turning to cast blue eyes down upon her.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Chloe asks slowly, voice somewhat cautious. Her tone is soft and calming, no pressure behind her words. Truth be told, she doesn’t even know what she is asking. Chloe doesn’t know if she’s referring to the passionate kiss the two had shared, the one that still lingers so heavily against her lips, or the events leading up to it that have Beca’s eyes still sore and puffy.

Either way, Chloe doesn’t want to push.

“No,” Beca’s voice is strained as she responds. She sounds tired—exhausted, even. And like so many times before now, so many times when Beca has stayed silent, kept her thoughts to herself, Chloe wishes she would talk. She wishes Beca would just… _Talk_.

Although Chloe finds herself slowly nodding her head, she lowers herself down carefully onto the edge of the mattress beside Beca, not quite ready to give up just yet. Chloe still doesn’t want to push, she doesn’t want to make Beca feel uncomfortable. She just wants her to know that she’s there, that she’s listening. If Beca wants to talk, Chloe will listen.

“You know you don’t have to do that, right?” Chloe asks, her voice still quiet, gentle almost. She tilts her head slightly to the side as she gazes toward Beca, taking note of the silent confusion written across her face. It serves as her prompt to continue. “Keep everything to yourself. You can talk to me, Beca. It’s me…”

It occurs to her quickly that maybe she shouldn’t have added that last part, because Beca had opened her mouth as if she was going to say something, and Chloe had dared herself for a moment to believe that she was finally going to confide in her. But then Beca’s lips close, lids along with them, and her head shakes slowly. “Exactly,” Beca says through gritted teeth, “It’s you.”

Chloe cannot read Beca’s tone. She is usually so good at reading people, Beca especially. But right now, it’s almost like there is a wall up between them, one Chloe truly doesn’t recognize. It is a wall that she wants to tear down, but she doesn’t know how.

“What… Does that even mean?” Chloe questions cautiously, hesitation conveying her genuine confusion. “I’m your friend, Beca. You can talk to me.”

“My friend,” Beca echoes, and Chloe swears she hears a small laugh fall from Beca’s lips. She doesn’t understand that, either. “We just kissed, Chloe. And not for the first time.”

A part of her wonders why Beca’s volume is rising, why she seems kind of… Angry? Her expression displays as much. But another part of Chloe gets it, because she’s confused, too. Chloe is frustrated, she’s _scared_ , but she’s trying to keep a level head. She speaks almost cautiously in return.

“I know,” Chloe nods her head matter-of-factly, “I know we did. And I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have kissed you yesterday. I’m sor—”

“Can you stop?”

“Stop what?”

“Apologizing!”

The sudden snap to Beca’s tone catches Chloe off guard. Auburn brows tug together, and she watches the way Beca seems to shuffle slightly away from her, edging closer to the other side of the bed. That is the last thing she wants, for Beca to feel like she can’t even be _near_ her. It breaks Chloe’s heart—she swears she can physically _feel_ it breaking her heart, and Chloe doesn’t mean to look like such a wounded puppy as she stares in partial disbelief.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, you didn’t do anything to apologize for. Sure, your timing was a little crappy, but you don’t have to be sorry for doing it, Chloe.”

Chloe doesn’t mean to sound defensive in her response, but Beca can be so aggravating sometimes, just the way she is right now.

“Well, clearly I do, because now you’re laughing at the idea of calling me your friend.”

“Because we kissed! We kissed, Chloe,” Beca shoots back loudly, feet planting firmly down on the floor as she pushes herself off of the bed. It is not often that Chloe is the one looking up between the two of them, but she does now. Chloe stares up at Beca, waiting for her to go on. “You think friends _kiss_? You think friends have wanted to kiss their friend for… Fuck… Years now?” Beca’s hands rise in an exaggerated shrug. “Friends don’t _do_ that, Chloe. They just don’t.”

Chloe stands now, too. It is like she suddenly doesn’t have full control of her body anymore, because she is rising from the bed without even thinking about it, standing close enough to smell the sweet, faint remnants of Beca’s distinct perfume.

“Okay, then maybe we’re not friends,” Chloe retorts, her words leaving her lips before they have even properly processed in her mind, “I don’t know what we are, but maybe we’re not just friends. Maybe we’re supposed to be something more than that, I don’t know. Maybe…” Chloe cuts herself off, gaze locking with that familiar blue, the one Chloe would look for in every crowd, notice in any room. She lowers her volume, tone calmer. “Maybe it’s nothing.”

“Do you want to kiss me?” Beca asks, her question for some reason throwing Chloe off completely. It is not like it’s out of left field, it’s literally the topic at hand. But Chloe opens her mouth, no words coming out. It’s answer enough for Beca, though.

“Exactly. And friends don’t do that.”

It is clear that Beca is upset. She’s having a bad day, Chloe knows that much might even be an understatement, and she really isn’t trying to make it worse. So, Chloe just stares, just looks at Beca in confusion, like a deer caught in the headlights that are those familiar blue orbs.

There is something between them. It’s nothing new, it’s nothing that hasn’t been there for the better part of four years now. Whenever it’s just the two of them, whenever they’re alone, there is always _something_ there. It hangs thickly in the air, almost daring them to step out and touch it, to explore it; to figure out what it means. Chloe can sense that it’s there now, and that it is maybe even stronger than ever.

Beca can feel it, too. Chloe knows she can.

“Look, I’m going to go, okay?” Beca backs hastily toward the door, her eyes never leaving Chloe. Chloe wants to stop her, to tell her to stay here, because they evidently have something to talk about, but she doesn’t.

Beca walks swiftly out of the door, and Chloe doesn’t stop her.

What just happened, Chloe doesn’t know. She just finds herself glued to the spot, staring at the door as it swings closed in the most haunting, ghostly way. There is a deafening silence surrounding her, and Chloe doesn’t know what to do with it. So she just… Stands. Chloe stands, right there in that same spot, and she waits for her mind to process what exactly is going on here—for some indication of what the hell is happening.

And then her feet are moving. They are carrying her toward the door, and there is a specific, intent purpose behind her movements. The way she moves is quick and deliberate, fueled by frustration and confusion.

Chloe tugs open the door, and before she even realizes what is happening, Beca is falling into her arms, lightly glossed lips pressing harshly to her own.

And Chloe kisses her back. She doesn’t even think about it, Chloe doesn’t _have_ to think about it. Her body does the talking for her, hands lowering to slender hips and fists clutching at dark material. Chloe feels soft, warm palms against her cheeks, the sound of quiet, desperate whimpering between their connected lips. She backs into the room, Beca following suit, and the door swings closed behind her again.

This time, neither of them is going anywhere. Neither of them wants to.

Unlike their kisses prior to this one, this one doesn’t stop. They don’t suddenly realize that what they’re doing is wrong, because it’s not. It’s not _wrong_ of them to finally give in to the most natural desire. It doesn’t feel wrong, the way Beca’s body presses flush against Chloe’s, with Beca guiding them back toward the bed. Beca’s hands fall from Chloe’s face until her arms are wrapping around Chloe’s neck, the mattress hitting the backs of Chloe’s legs the only thing reminding her that this is real, that this is actually happening. Toned arms snake their way around Beca’s waist, lifting her up as Chloe lays back onto the bed with Beca now hovering over the top of her, knees planted either side of her thighs.

There is an ache between Chloe’s legs. It is both familiar and new, so normal yet so terrifying, and God, Chloe wants to give into it. She wants to tell Beca to rip off her dress and feel exactly what she is doing to her, but she won’t; now is not the time. Chloe has no intention of pulling away, but they’re not going to go all the way here. Chloe is not going to be a one time, in the moment hookup, and she knows Beca doesn’t want her to be. Right here, conveyed through the sheer power and passion of this kiss, she knows that Beca feels the same way she does.

Just because they’re not going to take this too far doesn’t mean they have to stop, though Chloe does finally pull back, head leaning back into the soft sheets to stare up at Beca above her. Chloe’s chest rises and falls faster, blue eyes desperately searching Beca’s face. She can barely process her thoughts, though she knows that she’s not alone. Beca is just as confused as Chloe is. But they know that this is right. They both know that this, whatever it is… It’s where they’re supposed to be.

Blue eyes lower to swollen lips just in time for Beca to close the gap between them again, their mouths moving hungrily against one another’s. Chloe moves her hands to Beca’s slender waist, gripping onto her gently as she flips them over. Beca is now on her back, and Chloe climbs on top of her. A small, quiet moan vibrates against Chloe’s lips, and she feels Beca’s tongue pushing its way eagerly into her mouth.

Lips parting to allow Beca’s tongue the access it craves, Chloe slips her own past Beca’s soft, kiss-swollen lips, hips grinding down into Beca’s. Chloe feels hands trailing up her back, until slender fingers are sliding into her messy hair, grip tightening just enough to convey Beca’s desire, the same one Chloe feels, too.

Chloe knows that this could go too far. She knows it would be so easy to let this keep going, but she isn’t going to, and it takes all of the strength she can muster for Chloe to finally pull back. Her eyes have closed, but they flutter open to begin scanning Beca’s face, trying to read her expression. They are both breathing faster, both so entirely caught up in the moment, but their gazes lock, and neither speaks. They don’t have to; they have always been able to communicate through those familiar looks alone, and now is no different. Maybe this is a new circumstance for them, but they’re still Beca and Chloe, they’re no different.

“Friends don’t do that,” Beca finally says, voice small and breathless as it breaks into the comfortable quiet surrounding them. There is a tinge of pink spreading across her cheeks, it darkens the tip of her nose, and Chloe studies every part of it, every single piece of her expression.

Chloe allows a small, quiet chuckle to fall from her lips, and sees the way Beca’s have curved slightly upward in return, bottom lip tugged in between her teeth.

“No, friends don’t,” Chloe shakes her head, quiet voice matching the stillness surrounding them, “But we do.”


	7. Beca

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the night before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize that this chapter is a little shorter than my others. I started on the next section, but it felt like the way I chose to end it was a good closing point, so I've saved the rest for the next.

To say that nothing happened last night would be a lie. No, maybe they didn’t take things too far, but the kiss—multiple kisses, in fact—she and Chloe shared still replay in Beca’s mind, still linger like the sweetest memory on her lips, and as Beca wakes with the bright Georgia sun shining obtrusively through the gap in the heavy hotel drapes, protective arms wrapped comfortably around her, she takes a moment to reflect. Beca takes the time to study Chloe’s face as she sleeps so closely beside her, and Beca finds herself smiling at the welcome sight.

They hadn’t removed their makeup last night. Nor their dresses, for that matter. Things had been too intense, too urgent for any of that. Remnants of yesterday’s mascara flake beneath Chloe’s lids, dotting her pale cheeks. Her lipgloss is barely there anymore, though a pink tint remains. Beca could get used to this, she thinks silently to herself, to waking up beside Chloe.

And maybe that is a dangerous thought.

Still, Beca can’t deny that she just feels so… Normal. So comfortable, so _safe_. It’s not like she never felt comforted by Jesse; of course she did, Beca’s feelings for him were true and strong, though she has to admit, at least to herself, nothing has ever felt like this before. No one has ever made her feel the way Chloe does. That is something Beca has known for a long time, whether she has tried hard to deny it or not.

Beca can’t help herself as she lifts a hand to delicately push a chunk of red hair softly behind Chloe’s ear. Her touch is feather light, but it causes Chloe to stir slightly, and Beca can’t even feel too badly for it, because although a part of her thinks it’s unfair to wake her, another selfish part of her wants her here, in the present. Beca wants to know for sure that last night had not been a dream.

“You can go back to sleep,” Beca whispers softly, her voice low enough that if Chloe isn’t actually awake yet, it won’t disturb her. She finds herself running her fingers gently through red hair, brushing the same chunk slowly behind Chloe’s ear once more.

“Mm, maybe,” Chloe’s mumbled voice sounds into the early morning air, the sleep it is laced with making for one very much adorable Chloe Beale. Chloe’s eyes remain closed, and Beca feels her wiggling her body closer, feels the way Chloe’s arms tighten protectively around Beca’s slender frame as she murmurs, “What time is it?”

“I don’t know,” Beca admits in a hushed voice. She is unsure of where her phone is, and a part of her is kind of scared to find it. Beca knows it’s selfish, but she doesn’t want to see any texts or missed calls from Jesse. She doesn’t want the reminder of what she did to him, how she hurt him. Of course, it is all right there in the back of her mind—how could it not be? Beca isn’t so self-absorbed that she has somehow forgotten already. She knows this feeling of sleepy elation is only temporary, and that she’ll have to deal with the fire she so carelessly started later. But for now, she has Chloe, in the way she has always wanted Chloe. And Beca can’t help but choose ignorance for now, for just a few more moments of bliss.

It is almost like Chloe can read her mind, hear her thoughts ticking loudly in her brain, because blue eyes appear from beneath heavy lids, and Beca finds herself pulled in by them the way she has been so many times before. Except this time, it doesn’t scare her. Not the way it used to.

“Hi,” Chloe says, sleepy voice small and still a little mumbled. She seems to pause for a second or two, almost daring herself to continue. “Are friends allowed to like waking up with their friends like this?”

Despite herself, despite the way this should be entirely terrifying to her, Beca can’t help the way her lips curve upward a fraction. She can’t help how her gaze lowers to Chloe’s lips, though she pulls it back up again, enticed in by ocean blue orbs once more.

“Want me to let go?” Chloe asks, arms staying put in spite of the question. Beca swears she can feel Chloe’s hold tightening a little bit, so she scoots closer, body curling up against Chloe’s. Beca’s forehead nuzzles comfortably into the crook of Chloe’s neck, and the action pulls a soft, breathy chuckle from Chloe in response. “I’ll take that as a no?”

Long fingers begin to brush coolly through the back of her tangled hair, right the way from her scalp and down to the ends. Beca’s hair is pretty long now, she knows she needs to get it cut. She enjoys the feeling of Chloe playing with it the way she is, though. Honestly, Beca kind of wishes they could just stay like this. Just forget the world for a day and just… Stay.

“Bec?” Chloe’s voice, a little less sleep-engulfed by now, breaks into the comfort Beca feels as she lays pressed against Chloe, breathing in the sweet scent of last night’s perfume as it lingers on pale skin.

“Mm?”

While her fingers continue to move, to brush so naturally through mousy hair, Chloe lets out a gentle sigh, and Beca braces herself for whatever is to follow.

“I don’t want to ruin this,” Chloe continues, her volume a little quieter now. “But I think we should talk about last night.”

Beca is always pretty quick to recoil. She knows it, and Chloe knows it, too. So, the way her body stiffens comes as a surprise to neither, though the feeling of a soft, lazy kiss pressed gently into her matted hair is much more relaxing a sensation than Beca has ever really experienced.

“It’s okay,” Chloe promises sincerely, her quiet tone hushed and reassuring. “We don’t have to get into anything heavy, I just think it’s important that we talk, you know?” Slowly, somewhat cautiously, Chloe pulls herself back just a little bit. She is close enough that her arms are still able to wrap easily around Beca’s body, but now she can actually look at her, and even if Beca wanted to look away, she couldn’t.

“You know that I suck at that stuff,” Beca frowns apologetically, gaze drifting upward to lock with Chloe’s. In spite of herself, she knows she owes Chloe an explanation, and while Chloe is looking at her almost sympathetically, she also isn’t backing down.

It’s almost physically painful for her to pull back, but that’s just Beca, it’s just the way she is. Beca is the kind of person to isolate herself, to deal with her problems and her emotions on her own. Apparently, Chloe knows her well enough. Chloe allows Beca to slip from her arms, and then turns onto her side, elbow supporting her face as it rests comfortably against a flattened palm.

Beca shouldn’t be comparing them. In fact, she knows that is the very last thing she should be doing. But the way Chloe isn’t crowding her, the way she is giving her the time to collect her thoughts, to be in her own space… It’s something that was lacking with Jesse. Jesse always wanted to help, always wanted to be _right there_ , but as admirable as his efforts were, as well as she knew he always meant, that’s just not Beca. Chloe knows it, too.

“I’m not sorry for kissing you,” Chloe finally states, voice quiet and calm. Beca wonders how the hell Chloe can remain so cool, how she can keep such strong eye contact when she is laying it all out there. Fortunately (for Chloe, anyway), Beca is drawn in by sapphire blue, mesmerised stare trained on Chloe's face. “But on the other hand,” Chloe continues, just as calmly and coolly as before, “I kind of am.”

The statement is confusing, and Beca’s face apparently expresses as much, because it pulls a soft, quiet chuckle from Chloe’s lips. Then, Chloe lets out a small sigh, eye contact finally breaking.

“I don’t regret kissing you. I wanted to kiss you. Honestly, I think I’ve wanted to for a long time. But you have a boyfriend, Beca. And I’m sorry to him. I’m sorry for putting you in an uncomfortable position.”

For a brief moment, Jesse had left Beca’s mind, but the mention of her _boyfriend_ jolts him back to the forefront, and Beca finds herself licking over dry lips, teeth chewing on the inside of her cheek. “I don’t have a boyfriend,” Beca finally responds, noting from the corner of her eye the way Chloe’s brow arches the smallest bit. Beca isn’t looking directly at her anymore, but Chloe is looking at Beca, she can tell. “Yesterday, in the bathroom, that’s what I was doing. I called Jesse, and I broke up with him.” It sounds even more pathetic when she says it aloud, and Beca’s sigh mirrors Chloe’s previous one. “I know, over the phone… I’m a total coward.”

“You’re not a coward, Beca,” Chloe promises, her tone sincere. Beca’s gaze flickers toward her, and Chloe’s eyes catch her own all over again. “You’re not.”

Beca’s small, barely there laugh is a sarcastic one in response. “Yeah? I feel like one.”

Beca can practically see the cogs ticking in Chloe’s head, she can imagine the way Chloe is contemplating moving closer, but eventually she decides on staying put, and just looks at Beca with that same genuine air, that same sincerity. “You’re not. It’s obvious that you care, and that it wasn’t an easy thing for you to do. I saw how upset you were, I saw how hard you were crying. Cowards don’t care like that,” Chloe says gently, reaching out a hand to coolly brush a chunk of matted brunette hair behind Beca’s ear with the tip of her finger. “They don’t have the guts to.”

All Beca can do is lightly shrug a shoulder in response. She offers Chloe a sheepish kind of smile, her face tilting slightly into the touch of Chloe’s hand.

“Can I ask why you broke up with him?” Chloe asks, for the first time this whole conversation looking a little more timid, a little more afraid of Beca’s response. “It wasn’t… It wasn’t because of me, right? Because of what happened in my room the other night?”

Beca doesn’t even have to think about her answer. She quickly shakes her head, and she knows she isn’t lying, not to either of them. “No. No, it’s not that.” Beca may feel something for Chloe, something she hasn’t allowed herself to fully explore before now, but Jesse isn’t just someone she could throw away, not even for someone like Chloe Beale. “Things just haven’t felt right. For kind of a long time now, in fact. I thought about breaking up with him before, but I figured the distance might… I don’t know, help in some way?” Beca’s eyes lock with Chloe’s intent stare again. “I know that sounds so stupid. But they say it’s supposed to make the heart grow fonder or whatever that cliché is.” Chloe nods, and it’s clear that she is actively listening. “But it didn’t. The whole time I’ve been out in LA, away from Jesse, I haven’t been sad about it, you know? I haven’t been thinking about wanting him there with me.” Beca pauses, her throat a little dry. “But I thought about you.”

The expression on Chloe’s face doesn’t change. Beca can’t tell if she said the right or wrong thing, but she is opening up, she is speaking her truth, and that is really all she can do. Finally, Chloe seems to form her thoughts into a verbal response.

“I understand that,” Chloe nods shortly, that somewhat sympathetic look gracing her features again. If it was anybody else looking at her that way, Beca would roll her eyes, make some sarcastic comment. But it isn’t anybody else, it’s Chloe. So Beca just looks, just listens, waiting for her to go on. “It’s hard, and I understand it, because I’ve been feeling the same way. I’ve been missing you, Bec.” Chloe doesn’t hesitate as she reaches out a hand, the one she’s not resting her cheek against, and delicately pushes a chunk of hair smoothly over Beca’s shoulder.

At first, Beca doesn’t know how to respond. She just watches the motion of Chloe’s hand, takes comfort in her calming presence. “So what do we do?” Beca finally asks, voice much smaller than she’d intended.

“I don’t know,” Chloe admits, shoulder shrugging gently. “I don’t want to push anything.” Her gaze drifts over to settle on Beca’s again, and Beca finds herself drawn in once more, just watching that powerful stare. “I just know that I’m Chloe and you’re Beca, and we’re best friends. Maybe we’re something more than that. But I think that’s all we need to know right now. No pressure, no expectations. We can just keep doing our thing, keep being Chloe and Beca. And I guess we don’t have to hold back anymore.”

Until recently, Beca would deny that she’d ever held anything back. It is clear that she’s only lying to herself in saying so now, though, because this is the most natural Beca has felt in the longest time, the most free she has felt around anybody, Chloe included. And maybe that’s because they’re not just friends, and they don’t have to pretend to be. Maybe there’s something more.

It is bold of her, almost uncharacteristic even, but Beca doesn’t give herself the chance to question it too much, and soon she is ducking her head to press a soft kiss to Chloe’s lips. It doesn’t last too long, but when she pulls back, she doesn’t freak out like all of the other times. Beca doesn’t _have to_ freak out anymore.

It’s like Chloe had said, they don’t have to hold back. Maybe it’s too soon, maybe their wounds are still fresh from those who came before, but Beca knows that this has been a long time coming. She knows that she and Chloe were never _just friends_ , there has always been something more.

There is a small, almost lazy smile creeping across Chloe’s lips as she gazes toward Beca, and Beca wonders if she can feel the lingering sensation of her lips against her own the same way Beca can feel Chloe’s. “Not holding back, huh?” Chloe asks in her same calm, quiet tone.

“No,” Beca shakes her head, somehow finding her own zen right there in that very moment. “And you shouldn’t, either.”

 

* * *

 

As it turns out, Chloe doesn’t hold back. Not that that’s exactly shocking; Chloe has never been one to do anything very subtly. But she also doesn’t plough in full steam ahead, and Beca appreciates that. It doesn’t matter how long this has been underlying, Beca still hasn’t properly spoken to Jesse, and Chloe has only just gotten out of a serious relationship, too. They’re not trying to slap the ‘girlfriend’ label on one another, but they’re just… They’re not holding back.

The weekend is over pretty quickly, and this time, traveling back to LA is bittersweet. Beca is ready to get back to work, to fully settle into her job, but leaving her friends is difficult. Leaving Chloe is even more difficult than that. But Chloe drops her off at the airport, and the two share a chaste kiss before Beca has to leave. It is a soft, kind of shy kiss; almost a little experimental, even—nothing too full on. But the memory is ingrained in Beca’s mind, it lingers throughout the entire plane journey, and once she is back on the ground, she finds that she is excited to talk to Chloe again.

Beca decides on a phone call, rather than texting Chloe. Honestly, she is still ignoring Jesse’s texts, still afraid of what he has to say. She knows it’s stupid, she knows it’s pathetic, but she can’t help it. Maybe Beca really isn’t as tough as she would like to lead people to believe she is.

So, a phone call is safer, Beca decides, and Chloe picks up on the third ring.

“You’d better not be on the phone while you’re driving, Mitchell,” Chloe warns sternly, and Beca can so clearly picture the scowl on her face, the way her nose wrinkles and her brows furrow. It makes Beca chuckle, despite the fact that she’s tired, and that she just wants to get home.

“Relax, Beale. I’m in an Uber.”

Normally, Beca is not the kind of person to interact with her driver. But she finds herself catching his eye in the rearview mirror, the two exchanging something of a smirk, one that says ‘my girl is worried about me/your girl is worried about you, and it’s fucking adorable’. It’s like Beca is different somehow, like a weight has been lifted. To think of Jesse as that weight is unfair, but it’s also not inaccurate. Beca will have to deal with that later, she knows she will. For now, she has the content, cheerful sound of Chloe Beale humming breezily in her ear, and Beca doesn’t even stop herself from smiling.

They talk the whole way from the airport, with Beca only ending the call once she has arrived outside of her apartment building, and even then it’s only because she has to—she needs both hands to carry her luggage and let herself in. Once she does, once she is finally back in the comfort of her own space, Beca knows that it’s time to make a move, to put on her big girl pants and deal with the consequences of her actions.

Jesse’s muted thread of text messages is unsurprisingly full. They range from things like ‘Please don’t do this, Bec,’ to ‘Three years and this is how you’re going to end things? Good to know how much I meant to you.’ Each one of them feels like a punch to the gut, but Beca knows that she deserves it.

For a few minutes, curled up in the standalone chair in her tiny living room, Beca begins and then erases text message after text message. Nothing she has to say sounds good enough, nothing gives Jesse the closure she knows he deserves. So, with a shaking hand, she finally decides on a phone call, and Beca can hear her heart beating in her ear as she waits nervously for Jesse to answer.

_“You’ve reached Jesse…”_

Beca’s heart almost stops. Her eyes widen and her body freezes up, until she realizes what she’s hearing, realizes she has gotten Jesse’s voicemail. And suddenly Beca is taking the coward’s way out again, because she knows that talking to him, when he can’t even talk back, might just be the easiest way this could go. For her, at least.

Tongue flicking over dry lips, Beca waits for the prompt to talk, then straightens up and decides to just… Talk. To just tell Jesse what’s on her mind.

“Hey, Jesse. It’s Beca.” Beca begins. Already she feels like she’s saying the wrong thing, but she continues, because Jesse deserves an explanation. He deserves a real ending here. She can’t open a new door, not fully, until she has properly closed the last. “I’m sorry.” Beca shifts position, free hand coming up to run through her messy hair. It is almost just her way of fidgeting, of trying to distract herself. “For a lot of things. I’m sorry that I didn’t answer any of your calls or texts this weekend, and I’m sorry for… Well, all of this. But mostly I’m sorry because you deserve some answers, and I don’t know that I really have those.” Beca pauses, teeth scraping gently along her lower lip. “I know it’s so stupid, that whole it’s not you it’s me thing, but you just have to believe me that, in this case, it really is. It’s me, it’s not you, you didn’t do anything, and I care about you, I do, it’s just…” Her voice quietens. “It’s just not in the right way anymore.” Everything she is saying sounds so dumb, so callous and unfair, but it’s better than ignoring him. At least Beca thinks so, anyway. “Okay, well, I’m going to wrap this up, because I don’t know how long these things last. But I am truly sorry, Jesse, and I hope you can forgive me. But I understand if not. So, uh… Bye.”

The whole thing is painful to replay in her mind, mostly because it just wasn’t _good_ , it wasn’t the explanation Jesse rightfully deserves. Beca is sure it’s even more painful for Jesse to hear, but Beca decides not to overthink it. She doesn’t erase it and try again like she probably should do, try to find the right words to bring him some actual comfort, she simply ends the call.

If Beca had felt cowardly at all before, it doesn’t compare to now.

She doesn’t unmute their text thread.


	8. Chloe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca and Chloe explore LA together. Then, y'know, go on to explore each other...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Chapter rated M.)

Chloe’s new job as an elementary school music teacher—teaching grades pre-K through third, to be exact—doesn’t officially begin until the first week in September, but she is eager to get out there early. Chloe is moving to a whole other city, a whole other _state_ , in fact, so she needs to find her sea legs out there, and to settle into her new apartment. In true Chloe Beale fashion, she is excited to explore a whole new place.

And the idea of spending a little quality time with Beca before the school year officially begins is definitely a contributing factor to her enthusiasm, too.

They’re not exactly living in the same city, but they have gotten pretty lucky in the sense that they’ll be only an hour’s drive away from one another. So, despite the fact that she wants to get to know her new home, as soon as her parents leave the day after helping her move in, Chloe is climbing into her car and making the first of what she assumes will be many drives to Beca’s place.

It would’ve been nice to surprise her, she thinks to herself as she sits in the exhausting Los Angeles traffic. Any other time, she’d likely be annoyed by the wait, but because she knows she’s going to see Beca at the end of it, that serves as something of a comfort, something to keep a smile on Chloe’s face. The two have been texting back and forth constantly ever since Beca flew back from Georgia, though, talking on the phone whenever possible, too, so this trip is planned, and Chloe wonders if Beca is as excited to see her as she is to see Beca.

The text that pops up on her car display would suggest that she is.

**Beca  
** _how far now??_

Chloe smiles to herself rather than responding. She’ll be there soon, she doesn’t really see the point.

Beca has never been someone Chloe has felt any kind of awkward or uncomfortable around, and she is sure that won’t start now either, but Chloe has to silently admit that she is a little nervous to see how things are between the two of them. There has always been some kind of unspoken connection between the two, but now it’s out there, it’s _spoken_ , and while Chloe sees it as a good thing, she can’t keep the slight worry from creeping into her racing mind the closer she gets to her destination.

It becomes quickly clear to her that she has no reason to feel that way, though. The moment Beca opens the door, Chloe barely gets to greet her with a smile before Beca is taking a stride toward her, palms resting delicately against Chloe’s cheeks and soft lips pressing firmly to her own.

The whole thing catches Chloe off guard. It causes her to drop the large bag previously held securely in both hands, but she doesn’t mind. In fact, the smile rising to her lips, the one stretching into the kiss, is very solid proof of that. Chloe’s lids flutter shut, now free hand reaching out to gently grab a fistful of Beca’s shirt, and a part of her wonders if she is dreaming as she feels Beca’s grip on her face tighten, soon guiding her into the apartment without parting from their lip-lock.

Eventually, Beca pulls back, and Chloe doesn’t miss the deep shade of red prickling her cheeks. Chloe is sure her own are just as rosy, so she doesn’t point it out. Instead, she just loosens her hold on the dark fabric, bottom lip dragging in between pearly teeth.

“Uh, wow. Hi,” Chloe chuckles softly, still practically able to feel Beca’s lips against her own. “That’s how we’re greeting each other now?”

It had seemed very uncharacteristic for Beca, for someone usually so guarded and essentially withdrawn, so it doesn’t really surprise Chloe that Beca seems to have retreated into herself a little bit already. Beca shifts from foot to foot, right hand cradling her left elbow, and it seems she is struggling to make eye contact. Chloe can’t help but think it’s adorable.

“I guess I just missed you,” Beca finally says, shy gaze moving upward for the briefest of moments. “I’m sorry, it was probably weird. I’ve just been kind of freaking out about how things are supposed to go now, so—”

Chloe takes a small step closer, noticing the way Beca flinches slightly but doesn’t move back herself, and cuts her off with a soft shake of her head, neat curls dancing in the process. “You don’t have to apologize for anything. I wasn’t complaining. I liked it,” Chloe grins, auburn brows rising and falling playfully. Her tone softens some as she continues, becomes slightly more serious, though still incredibly gentle. “There is no _supposed to_ , Bec. We just keep being us.” Beca still isn’t making eye contact, though Chloe reaches out a hand to gently push a chunk of brunette hair over her shoulder, and the action causes their gazes to finally lock. Chloe swears she can see the smallest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of Beca’s mouth, and she knows she is mirroring the expression easily.

This whole ‘just friends to something more’ thing is going to take a little navigating, a little adjusting to, but Chloe isn’t worried, not anymore. In fact, Chloe is confident that they’ll do it, because this is already the most natural, the most at ease she has felt around Beca in the longest time, and Chloe thinks that Beca feels the same way, too.

“I missed you too, by the way.” Chloe’s voice is both gentle and reassuring, but somehow still laced with the utmost confidence. “I don’t like being away from you.”

 

* * *

 

They relax into being regular Beca and Chloe easily, and the day is spent with the two of them exploring the vast, vibrant city. It occurs to Chloe quickly that Beca might’ve been waiting for her to do all of this with, because she seems just as mystified as Chloe by each new sight.

(Though, in true Beca Mitchell fashion, she attempts to hide her enthusiasm—as usual, Chloe catches glimpses of the way her eyes shine in utter wonder, and Chloe thinks she is adorable.)

Chloe doesn’t know whether to consider the day a date, or just two best friends hanging out. However, where the two would usually just grab one another’s hand mid-walk, things are much more subtle today, much more careful. There is the light brushing of fingers against fingers in passing, the stark reality of longer than usual, lingering stares when the other isn’t looking.

It’s at dinner that Beca literally confirms it, and it seems to take them both by surprise.

“Put that away,” Beca frowns, motioning toward the floral patterned wallet Chloe is pulling from her purse as the waiter presents them with their check. “I’m paying.”

Chloe shoots a skeptical look across the table. Just because Chloe is Beca’s guest this week doesn’t mean that Beca is expected to take care of her. “This place is kind of fancy. We should split it.”

In spite of her attempted insistence, Beca adamantly shakes her head. “I’ve got it, Chlo.” Beca’s tone is breezy as she slips her card from her wallet, almost like she is barely paying attention. “You can pay on our second date.”

It seems that Beca doesn’t even realize what she has said until it is already out there, and Chloe watches as her cheeks flush a deep shade of pink. Beca’s eyes widen some in either surprise or horror, Chloe can’t really decide which.

“I was wondering if that’s what this was,” Chloe says easily, breaking into the silence. She is sure Beca finds it awkward, but Chloe doesn’t. Chloe just relaxes back coolly into her seat, intent gaze on Beca. “A date.”

Beca somewhat hastily clears her throat, gaze diverting from Chloe’s face. “Uh, I mean…” Beca’s hand moves up to rub at the back of her neck, thoughts evidently frantic. Chloe just grins, reaching out a pale hand across the table. She settles it palm upward, fingers motioning Beca’s closer.

“It’s okay,” Chloe promises, immediately closing her slender fingers around Beca’s once their hands have met. “I was hoping it was.”

 

* * *

 

If you were to ask Chloe, date or not—it very much _was_ a date, as they’d already confirmed—it has been the perfect day; just the two of them, exploring and learning a whole new place together. It is almost like something of a metaphor for their new relationship, in fact. The way they’re exploring and learning these whole new sides to one another, getting to see more intimately into each other’s minds.

What she has learned thus far, Chloe adores.

It is dark out by the time they return to Beca’s apartment. The Los Angeles sun is veiled by a dark, starry blanket, and the idea of curling up comfortably beside Beca seems like the perfect way to end their day. Chloe is tired, and she knows Beca is, too. Chloe is willing to bet that they’ll both be asleep by the time their heads hit those plush pillows, but as long as they’re ending the day together, that is really all that matters.

They’d taken their desserts to-go, so Beca goes to place them in the fridge to stay fresh until the morning, while Chloe retreats to the bedroom to dump her purse and fall onto the comfortable mattress. She is perching casually on the edge of it by the time Beca comes in to join her, shrugging off her leather jacket in the process.

Chloe watches her—no, she studies her, in fact. She doesn’t even realize she is doing it, not until Chloe notices the soft blush overtaking Beca’s formerly pale cheeks. She notices the shy smile that curls at the corners of Beca’s lips.

“Come here,” Chloe instructs, a long arm stretching to flex her fingers in Beca’s direction. Beca grasps gently onto them, allowing Chloe to tug her carefully closer, until Beca is seated on the bed beside her, blue eyes studying blue eyes.

“Thank you.” Chloe barely recognizes the softness of her own voice, doesn’t notice the way the pad of her thumb rubs small circles over Beca’s knuckles. She just… Does. Like everything with Beca, it just is. _It is what it is_ , Chloe thinks. It’s natural.

A dark brow raises, though Beca doesn’t question her, at least not verbally.

Chloe responds with a soft, quiet giggle, realizing she needs to clarify further. “For today. I had a really great day with you, Becs.” Chloe’s throat feels slightly dry, but that’s really not what she is paying attention to as she lifts her free hand to delicately cradle Beca’s rosy cheek in her palm. Neither says anything more, but that’s really nothing new.

They have always had these conversations, the ones communicated so clearly with nothing but their eyes.

And then they’re both leaning in. Chloe doesn’t know whether she has begun to guide Beca’s face closer toward her own, or whether Beca did it herself and Chloe’s hand just happens to be resting against her cheek still. Either way, two sets of mascara coated lashes flutter shut, two sets of full lips crashing immediately against one another’s.

And suddenly Chloe is hooked.

This hadn’t been the intention tonight, Chloe thinks as her hand slips from Beca’s face and down toward her neck, the feeling of small hands ghosting along her lower back causing her body to tense beneath their touch. Chloe relaxes as she lays back against the comforter, pulling Beca down on top of her. Beca’s knees fall either side of Chloe’s thighs on the bed, and it is clear that neither one of them has any intentions of stopping.

They had wanted to take things slowly; they were both in agreement that there was no need to rush. But four years is a long time, and Chloe can admit now that she has wanted Beca Mitchell for the last four years. Each second of that time, all of the build up, the longing, the _anticipation_ , is all poured into the way their hands roam and eagerly explore, the way fingertips slip inside of loose fabric, nails ghosting feather lightly along soft skin.

“Tell me if you want to stop,” Chloe murmurs quietly against Beca’s already kiss-swollen lips. Chloe gently flips them over until Beca is the one on her back, with Chloe hovering over the top of her. She forces herself to pull back from their desperate kiss, just to gauge Beca’s reaction, to really feel out her emotions. Their gazes lock briefly, before Beca’s hands are cupping Chloe’s cheeks, and soon Beca is tugging her face down and reconnecting their lips.

Parting from the kiss a second time is almost physically painful, and it becomes quickly clear that Beca feels the same way, because Chloe hears a soft whine fall from her swollen lips. Though, her breath hitches as Chloe presses her open mouth to the delicate skin of Beca’s neck, memorizing the taste with each sure, deliberate kiss, each gentle flick of her tongue against hot skin.

It’s like, somehow, everything is moving in both fast and slow motion all at once. One second Beca’s hands are brushing along Chloe’s body, the next they are sliding her shirt up to tug over her head. Chloe only breaks her contact with Beca’s skin to allow her the room to peel away the garment, and makes quick work of tugging off Beca’s in the process. Next comes their bras, and Chloe doesn’t _mean_ to stare, she really doesn’t, but God, Beca is so beautiful. She’s so fucking beautiful, and Chloe is finally allowed to notice, she’s allowed to appreciate every part of her. And so she does, she notices. She takes in every curve, every freckle lining Beca’s pale skin, the very same way Beca stares back with lust filled eyes in return.

When her head ducks to take Beca’s already stiffened nipple between her lips, Chloe wonders if Beca is going to stop her. As caught up in the moment as she is, she doesn’t want to take things further than what Beca is comfortable with, but the instant whimper the action pulls from Beca’s throat tells Chloe that this is okay. More than okay, in fact. Chloe allows her parted lips to suck and nip at sensitive flesh, the tip of her pointed tongue flicking and swirling around the hardened bud, and Beca slides her hands desperately between the two connected bodies, fingers working less than expertly at the button of Chloe’s faded jeans.

Chloe is used to taking charge in the bedroom. It’s second nature to her at this point, but she’s willing to switch things up for Beca. Chloe is happy to go at Beca’s pace, to let her take the lead, but it seems Beca is just as happy to give in to Chloe, too. Beca’s arms fall back against the pillow as Chloe’s slender fingers wrap around her wrists, pinning her hands above her head, and she takes note of the adamant aching between her own legs as small, pleasured sounds rise from Beca’s throat and ring through her ears like the sweetest, most sacred of sounds.

So consumed by the woman beneath her, by the haphazard removal of the rest of their clothes, Chloe has to take a moment to truly admire Beca as she lay on the bed before her, every item now removed and out of her way. Chloe’s knees shake with both lust and anticipation as she kisses her way down soft skin, over toned abs and sensitive flesh that causes Beca’s back to arch slightly. She takes note of the way Beca’s breath seems to hitch in her throat.

And then Chloe is tasting her. Not just her skin, nor her lips, though Chloe can still feel Beca’s kiss against her own, can still imagine that sweet taste, the way their lips fit so perfectly against one another’s. No, this is much more than that. Arm slipping beneath a pale thigh, Chloe lifts Beca’s leg to rest over her shoulder, tongue meeting with Beca’s wet, already swollen clit, and _fuck_ , Chloe is addicted.

Already, Chloe is addicted to the way Beca tastes, to the way her body moves beneath her own. She is addicted to the sounds erupting from the back of Beca’s throat as Chloe takes the swollen bud between her full lips, sucking and aching for more.

“God, Chloe,” Beca whimpers in pleasure, lower back arching and slim fingers winding their way into weathered auburn curls. Hearing her name on Beca’s lips, especially in the heat of the moment, only serves as a bigger turn on for Chloe. The sound causes her tongue to press flatter against Beca’s aching clit and to move in a way that tells her she wants to draw out every sound she can, every movement she can from Beca’s trembling body.

Chloe’s chin is slick with arousal, glistening with everything she is doing to the woman beneath her. Chloe silently feels pretty smug about it, but she is too wrapped up in the moment to voice it, too intent on pulling every reaction she can from Beca. Two fingers slide easily inside of Beca’s dripping center, tongue lapping at wet folds, pulling louder whimpers and desperate moans from Beca’s still kiss-swollen lips.

When Beca comes, when she reaches that sweet release, Chloe is pretty sure she comes right along with her. There is nothing quite like the feeling of Beca’s walls clenching around her fingers, of her body twisting and writhing beneath her own. Chloe stays where she is, actions slowing as she guides Beca through her high, until she is eventually kissing her way right the way back up her body and pressing her glistening lips to Beca’s.

“You have no idea how incredible you taste,” Chloe whispers into the kiss, teeth gently nibbling down on Beca’s lower lip. Chloe is sure Beca can taste herself on her tongue, but nothing can compare to _actually_ doing that to her, to being the one to make Beca Mitchell come undone like that.

It is only a matter of seconds before Beca is pushing her trembling body up against Chloe’s and flipping them over, insistent on reciprocating.

And God, when Beca makes her come, it is better than anything Chloe ever could’ve imagined.

 

* * *

 

Ever the morning person, Chloe is the first one to wake with the bright light of the Los Angeles sunrise. It takes her a moment to adjust properly to consciousness, to relive the details of the previous night. Her lightly freckled face feels warm as she twists her neck to take in the day’s first glimpse of Beca Mitchell, and an almost lazy smile stretches itself across her lips in response.

Beca is laid on her side, back facing Chloe. Blue eyes study the sight of soft, pale skin, admire the way the smooth curves of Beca’s back outline her petite body. The fact that neither one of them had bothered to put on clothes last night is not at all surprising; they’d been in a hurry to take them off of each other, so putting them back on had been the last thing on either of their minds. They had fallen asleep together, naked bodies tangled into one, and just like usual, everything had felt so natural.

For a brief moment, Chloe considers waking Beca. She would be lying if she was to say she has never imagined a morning like this, where she’d wake up beside Beca and lean in close, press her lips delicately to the soft curve of Beca’s shoulder, kiss her way along her neck until Beca is turning around with sleep glazed eyes. Chloe would capture her lips with her own the moment she’d turned toward her, and they’d fall into each other all over again.

But it was a long night, and this is their reality now. It’s _allowed_ to be their reality now. So Chloe decides not to wake her.

 

* * *

 

By the time the sound of lazy footsteps padding out of the bedroom catches her attention, Chloe is already tucking into her second slice of toast. Her legs swing coolly as they dangle from the counter where she has casually seated herself.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” Beca asks mid-yawn. She takes a moment to stop, to stretch up her arms and work the stiffness out of her tired body. They have apparently both had the same idea as far as clothing for the morning; each wears a band tee, both from Beca’s middle drawer, and both sport a pair of panties to serve as pants. Beca’s shirt is black with green and white writing, while Chloe’s is green with black writing—she can’t help but smile to herself about how accidentally coordinated they look.

“Because you looked peaceful,” Chloe shrugs, swallowing the bite of toast she had been chewing on, then easily parts her legs as Beca approaches. Beca slots comfortably into the gap with the most natural ease, and Chloe lifts a long arm to drape around Beca’s neck. “Hi,” Chloe greets softly, comforted entirely by the way dainty hands move to rest against her hips. She feels smooth fingertips brushing against bare skin where her shirt has risen, where Beca is making small, lazy circles that cause goosebumps to rise in their path. Chloe offers out the half eaten toast slice. “Want some breakfast?”

While Beca leans forward to take a small bite, she also shakes her head, swallowing before she speaks. “Not yet. I’m still kind of tired. I only got up because I heard someone in my kitchen, I had to go investigate.” Beca’s arms snake their way around Chloe’s waist, tugging Chloe closer toward her, toward the edge of the counter.

“And that’s what you’re wearing?” Chloe smirks softly, gaze lowering to take in what she can of Beca’s outfit. “Whoever broke in here would be in for a real treat.”

“Right. I look _great_ first thing in the morning,” Beca teases, eyes rolling playfully.

Chloe responds with a soft laugh, followed by a small shrug of her shoulder. “I think you do.”

She can see the way Beca’s cheeks darken a shade, the sight causing Chloe to grin.

“Well, I guess that’s down to you. You’re the reason for this morning glow,” Beca states, reaching up to take the almost eaten slice from Chloe’s hand. She pops the rest of it into her mouth, and Chloe doesn’t mind. In fact, she smiles in response, silently taking note of how easy this is. God, it’s just so _easy_.

“And you’re the reason last night was so perfect,” Chloe exhales, other arm now wrapping around Beca’s neck, too.

Sex is… Sex. It’s sex, it’s natural. It isn’t something Chloe generally thinks about before or after. It’s just something she does, usually a heat of the moment occurrence, and not something for her to question nor to think too deeply into again. But as her gaze locks with Beca’s, Beca actually managing to maintain eye contact, Chloe is transported back to the night before. She recalls the feeling of slender fingers and the sound of heavy breathing, and she realizes it might be the first time she has ever truly felt _this_ lucky.

“Come here,” Chloe just above whispers into the comfortable quiet between them, her head ducking to graze her lips against Beca’s. Beca stretches up taller, meeting her halfway, and suddenly Chloe is entirely consumed by her friend all over again.

 _Friend_.

Friends don’t do this. They’re more than friends, though; they’re exactly what they were always supposed to be.

Chloe feels slender arms tightening around her, her own grip instinctively strengthening, too. It doesn’t matter that she’s tiny in height, Beca is incredibly strong, and she lifts Chloe off of the counter easily, legs wrapping around her waist. They don’t break from their kiss, not until Beca has moved across the small kitchen, carefully settling Chloe down on her feet.

“You really didn’t want me sitting on your counter, huh?” Chloe teases, grip loosening slightly.

“No way,” Beca shakes her head, a small smirk evident on her lips. “I just cleaned that yesterday.”

“You might be cute but you’re also very annoying,” Chloe states playfully, with Beca leaning in to peck her amused smile away, before she is finally letting go. Chloe takes a second to silently think about how easily they have slipped into this new dynamic, into being, as she’d previously thought, _exactly what they’re supposed to be_. There is a certain level of reluctance between the two of them when it comes to parting again, but they can’t exactly stay glued to each other’s side forever.

“I’ll be right back, okay? You stay off that counter,” Beca warns, the playful tone in her voice evident.

There have been many times in the past where Chloe has caught herself staring as Beca has walked away from her, but she doesn’t try to hide it this time. She doesn’t have to try to hide it, and only turns away once Beca is out of sight. There is a content smile still settled on Chloe’s lips as she turns toward the island, elbows resting down on the surface. Chloe extends a hand to pick up the decorative candle placed before her, humming breezily to herself as she studies the frosted white holder, just keeping herself occupied until Beca is back here with her again.

She isn’t alone for long.

Chloe has the time to set the candle back down in its spot before she feels familiar arms wrapping around her waist from behind. Her previous smirk begins to tug at the corners of her mouth again, and Chloe starts to straighten up, though she soon feels a hand settling gently on her back.

“No,” Beca whispers, carefully pushing Chloe’s body forward, “Stay there.”

Although Chloe has of course felt the screaming desire to fall into bed with Beca Mitchell before, she has never actually taken the time to imagine what it would _actually_ be like. But Beca is kind of awkward, she’s somewhat withdrawn, so the idea of her doing anything a little crazier when it comes down to sex is kind of out there.

Not that fucking Chloe over the kitchen counter is exactly _crazy_ , but there is something surprisingly adventurous about it, and Chloe definitely does not fight it. She just leans her top half against the counter, eyes fluttering shut with the feeling of Beca’s fingertips grazing over her sides and down to her bare thighs. Chloe had been the one to take the lead last night, so she is happy for Beca to do it now.

“This okay?” Beca mumbles, full lips pushing delicately to the back of Chloe’s shoulder through the fabric of her shirt. The feeling causes Chloe’s skin to prickle, that undeniable ache between her legs spreading already.

“More than,” Chloe murmurs, a part of her desperate to turn around and watch what Beca is doing. She doesn’t want to stop her, though, doesn’t want to throw her off. So, Chloe stays exactly where she is, leaning over the counter and allowing Beca to touch her however she wants to.

Even though she can’t see her, Chloe can imagine just how sexy the scene going on behind her is. As Beca’s soft, parted lips lower down to the bottom of her back, fingers looping underneath the fabric of her panties to begin tugging them down Chloe’s thighs, she can just picture how incredible Beca looks. She pictures the look on Beca’s face as she lowers to her knees the further Chloe’s panties slide down slender legs. Chloe knows Beca will be able to see that they’re wet already, that she’s aching for her right off the bat.

With Chloe’s feet stepping out of the now useless material, Beca pushes it aside, before beginning to trail wet, open mouthed kisses right the way back up Chloe’s legs, paying special attention to her thighs. The feeling of her lips against her skin causes a soft whimper to rise from the back of Chloe’s throat, eager for more.

With Beca’s hand slipping between Chloe’s thighs, fingers ghosting just below her center, there really could not be a worse time for the obnoxious sound of a fist hammering loudly against the door.

The sound causes Chloe to jump slightly, and Beca pauses for a brief moment, before lips are pressing to the back of her legs again. “They’ll leave,” Beca murmurs against her skin, “No one important.”

Normally, Chloe would go to see who it was. Chloe is a very hospitable person, whether this is her home or not. But given the current circumstances, she has no desire to move anywhere, so she simply relaxes onto the counter again.

_“Bec?”_

Both girls pause, and while Chloe’s brows tug tightly together, her body straightening up, Beca’s heart just about stops.

“Is that…” Chloe begins, tone quizzical.

 _“Beca, open up.”_ Another loud knock. _“It’s Jesse.”_


	9. Beca

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca has a couple important conversations to partake in, some decidedly a little deeper than others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus points to those who can pick out the _Friends Don't_ lyrics!

Fight or flight.

Beca has always considered herself a strong person, always assumed that when faced with the option, she’d be a fighter. But now, with Jesse calling her name right outside of the door, and Chloe standing in her kitchen half undressed, all Beca wants to do is climb out of the nearest window. But she can’t, and she’s panicking. Why? She doesn’t know.

At least, that’s what she’s telling herself. In reality, Beca knows perfectly well. She knows that the couple times Jesse had joked in the past about how she and Chloe acted like girlfriends were actually never jokes at all. And the scene before him won’t do anything to dampen his suspicions.

Not that it matters; Jesse isn’t her boyfriend anymore. Chloe isn’t her girlfriend. It’s just bad timing. Really, really bad timing.

“Isn’t he supposed to be in Maine?” Chloe questions quietly, crouching down quickly to pick up her damp panties from their heap on the floor.

Beca begins to nod her head, but pauses almost instantly, lids slamming shut as she recalls a prior conversation between she and her ex-boyfriend. Back before the _ex_ part.

“No, he’s visiting his parents in Colorado. He said he was going to once he could take off work. God,” Beca’s jaw clenches, a suppressed sigh fighting for an escape. “I should’ve known he’d show up here.”

“Colorado is still at least a two hour flight away,” Chloe points out, evidently trying to make Beca feel better, feel like it isn’t her fault for not expecting this. That’s one of the many things Beca admires about Chloe; Chloe is always in her corner, she’s always on her team. Even when Beca screws up, which she feels like, somehow, she has now, Chloe always has her back.

“Beca?” Jesse’s tired voice sounds from the door, “I can literally hear you in there. Are you going to let me in or not?”

Beca’s heart races, foggy head beginning to pound. Honestly, she doesn’t know what to do, and Beca wonders what a panic attack feels like, because she thinks that this really might be the start of one.

“Bec…” A soft hand rests delicately against her arm, and Beca can’t help but feel entirely comforted by it, if only for a brief moment. Beca’s gaze drifts upward to meet with Chloe’s, and that reassuring look Chloe is giving her, the way she’s telling her ‘everything will be okay’ without even verbally saying a single word, is enough to calm Beca down, even if only for a moment. “You know you don’t have to open the door, right? You don’t have to let him in if you don’t want to.”

With her tone soft and reassuring, voice low as if telling a secret meant only for Beca’s ears, it’s so easy to listen to Chloe. So easy to hear what she’s saying, to consider really _listening_ , but she can’t. As much as Beca would like to block out the rest of the world, and to stay in this little protective bubble with Chloe Beale forever, she knows that she can’t. No, Jesse’s presence right now really is not convenient, but Beca cannot shake the feeling that she owes him. She ended their relationship via phone call, ignored his attempts to contact her for weeks… She can’t just leave him standing outside now, that isn’t fair.

“It’s okay,” Beca finally says, offering Chloe a weak smile. “I feel like he deserves a conversation.”

It doesn’t surprise Beca that Chloe simply nods her head. If it was the other way around, if it was Kyle standing outside of Chloe’s door and begging to be let in, Beca would be adamantly against it. But Chloe is evidently a far more understanding person than Beca is, she’s clearly the better half of this whole, so Beca is going to follow her lead. And she’s grateful, God, she’s so grateful, because it’s becoming clearer and clearer to her that Chloe Beale is everything she does not deserve, but she has her. Somehow, in some capacity, she has her, and Beca will likely never understand exactly how.

_“Beca.”_

“Yeah,” Beca finally calls toward the door, “Hang on, I’m looking for my key.”

“Do you want me to stay?” Chloe questions, underwear now securely back in place. The support is tempting, but also probably unfair to both Chloe and Jesse, so Beca eventually shakes her head.

“No, that’s okay. Why don’t you go hang out in the bedroom, and I’ll just hear him out, let him say whatever he has to say.”

This isn’t the way the morning is supposed to go. Only moments ago, Beca had Chloe bent over the kitchen counter, mouth watering at the thought of tasting her all over again, of hearing her moan her name the same way she did repeatedly last night as her tongue strokes desperately over inviting, swollen folds. And now she is sending her into hiding while she deals with her ex-boyfriend, and this just is not how the morning is supposed to go.

Fortunately for Beca, it seems that Chloe understands, and soon she is disappearing into the small bedroom, door closing quietly behind her.

Beca doesn’t need a key to unlock the door from the inside, so hopes Jesse doesn’t think to check once she lets him in. She can’t help but notice how tired his wide eyes look as soon as the door opens, the way he appears so beaten down and disheveled. And Beca hates it. She truly hates it, because the thought of doing that to someone she once upon a time cared so much about, it makes her feel sick to her stomach.

“Hi,” Beca greets somewhat lamely, voice timid and cautious. She isn’t afraid of Jesse, she has never been afraid of Jesse. She just doesn’t like this situation, doesn’t like having to finally face it, but Beca is a big girl, and she owes Jesse. She may not know much right now, but she does know that much. “Uh, come in.”

Her outfit is inappropriate, Beca realizes as she sees Jesse’s gaze lower briefly downward. He isn’t checking her out, he’s just looking, though Beca feels entirely vulnerable in her oversized band tee and panties. Of course the position she had Chloe in only moments ago had turned her on, but Beca is hopeful that Jesse can’t tell, that the evidence isn’t soaking through the thin fabric of her underwear. Beca makes a point of tugging down the hem of her shirt, just in case.

At first, Jesse doesn’t say anything. It’s like he’s trying, like he knows what he wants to say but it just isn’t coming out. He just looks upset, and Beca wishes there was something she could do about it, but there isn’t. She knows that there isn’t, that it’s not her place anymore. Selfishly, she doesn’t want it to be her place.

“Who’s in the bedroom?” Jesse finally asks, his question catching Beca completely off guard. Any slight hint of color drains from her already pale cheeks. And it shouldn’t really, because she isn’t doing anything wrong. This between she and Chloe, it isn’t _wrong_ , it’s just new, but Jesse is the last person she wants to discuss it with.

Jesse motions toward the bedroom door. His tone is not accusatory, his expression not filled with rage like it really could’ve been given the situation. He has every right to be mad, Beca thinks, but he isn’t. If she’s reading him correctly, all he is is defeated. “I heard you talking to someone, telling them to wait in the bedroom.” Jesse pauses, swallowing thickly as he brings his gaze over toward Beca’s for the first time. “Is that why we’re over? Whoever’s in there?”

Beca feels sick. Her stomach turns and her head feels light, because Chloe is not the reason they’re done, Beca didn’t leave Jesse for Chloe, but she knows how it looks; how it’s going to look—how it probably always has looked, in fact.

“It’s Chloe,” Beca says, choosing honesty but attempting nonchalance. “She just moved out here, she’s staying at my place for the week.”

Jesse doesn’t say anything. Instead, he simply glances toward the door, a somber look washing across his features, and shortly nods his head.

“I just figured this was probably a private conversation,” Beca continues, unsure of why she feels she has to explain herself, but she does.

“Yeah,” Jesse nods once more, his weak smile as he catches Beca’s gaze again nowhere near meeting his eyes. “I guess that answers my question.”

Beca wants to disagree, to tell him that whatever he’s thinking, it’s wrong. But she can’t. Jesse can read her like an open book, he’s one of the few people that really _knows_ her, and Beca can’t lie to him. She owes him more than that, so rather than respond, rather than dispute his obvious assumptions, Beca simply hangs her head, bottom lip sucking in between her teeth.

“You know she’s not the reason, right?” Beca finally says in a quiet, somewhat timid voice. She brings her now also defeated gaze up to focus on Jesse. He’s watching her, studying her maybe. Like he’s trying to figure something out, trying to figure _her_ out, and Beca almost wonders when the fight is going to come. She wonders when Jesse is going to blow up, to express the feelings he is completely entitled to have.

But that isn’t Jesse. The same way he knows her, Beca knows him, and that’s not the kind of person he is. So, his weak, almost pained looking smile is definitely more on beat, and somehow breaks Beca’s heart even more than a yelling match would. Not that it’d be much of a match; she wouldn’t fight back, but that’s neither here nor there.

“She’s not the whole reason,” Jesse agrees, and Beca wants to interject, to tell him Chloe has nothing to do with it at all.

But she can’t do that, because she can’t lie to him. After everything, all of their history, Jesse deserves more respect than that.

Hand moving up to rub at the back of his neck, Jesse stands kind of awkwardly, like he knows how out of place he is right now. His sneakers rub against the shiny, hardwood floor, the sound causing Beca to jump slightly. Why she’s still so on edge, she doesn’t know. Maybe it’s because of how candid she knows she has to be, or because Chloe can probably hear them through the door. Either way, the whole situation makes Beca uncomfortable, and true to the fact that he knows her so well, Jesse clearly doesn’t want that. Even now, after everything Beca has done to him, he wants to protect her, and man, that makes her feel like shit.

Jesse is the first to speak, to break the silence that has begun to hang thickly in the air around them. “It’s okay, Bec,” he says in a small voice, head tipped slightly forward, though he brings his gaze up to train on Beca. It feels like it’s burning into her, though there is no malice behind it. Beca is just wary, unsure of what he’s going to say next.

“Do you love her?”

Truth be told, Beca hadn’t known what to expect the next words to come out of her ex-boyfriend’s mouth to be, but it definitely wasn’t that. And it proves too difficult for her to form a response, because Beca opens her mouth, then closes it right after, just looking at Jesse wide-eyed, like a deer caught in particularly bright headlights, and it’s obvious he has his answer.

“You can lie to me,” Jesse continues, sight drifting away from her, “Say you don’t. But I know you do, Bec.” As much as Beca wants to look away too, to stop taking in that pained look etched across Jesse’s tired features, she can’t. She watches the way he motions toward the bedroom door, as if it isn’t even there and he can see Chloe standing there beside the two of them, plain as day. “And she loves you, too.”

It occurs to her, as silence engulfs the room once again, that Beca hasn’t said anything for the last little while. That Jesse has had to stand here, to make himself vulnerable, while she does nothing to contribute. That isn’t fair, she knows it isn’t fair.

“Jesse, I’m sorry,” Beca finally whispers, and despite the soft, quiet tone, there is a sincerity behind her words. It is clear that she means what she’s saying, that she isn’t just trying to fill an awkward silence. Though his expression is still sad, there is an appreciative look on Jesse’s face, and he simply nods his head in acknowledgment.

He doesn’t stay much longer, doesn’t have much more to say. Though, as Beca walks him to the door, watches him leave for what she assumes will be the last time, she hopes he has his closure. She hopes he has that, if nothing else.

 

* * *

 

Although it feels like hours pass between Jesse leaving and Chloe reemerging from the bedroom, in reality it is mere minutes, and Beca doesn’t realize how sad the expression on her face is until Chloe’s fingers trail gently down her bare arm, face turning to look up at her. She catches Chloe’s small, reassuring smile, and in spite of herself, the corners of her lips tug upward slightly, too.

“Okay?” Chloe asks, voice soft. It sends Beca back to so many moments in the past, all of those times when Chloe cried and Beca sat beside her, the two of them in silence, until things started to feel better.

“Okay,” Beca nods her head softly, and she knows that it is, it’s okay.

Beca could spend the whole day moping, feeling sorry for herself and allowing her guilt to consume her, but Chloe doesn’t let her, and for that and so many other things, Beca is grateful.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to leave? I could even just get a hotel room for the night, give you your space?” Chloe offers for the third time, but Beca adamantly shakes her head, tells her that’s the last thing she wants, so Chloe doesn’t bring it up again. Again, Beca is grateful.

They opt for a lazy day, and once more, Beca is transported back to so many times like this in the past. So many days in the Bellas house where she and Chloe had been the only ones home, and they’d spent entire afternoons tangled up together across one of the couches (they could’ve very well taken one each, but alas), and lost themselves in a whole marathon of movies.

Well, Chloe did… Beca just kind of lost herself in Chloe, though she would never admit that at the time. She is allowed to do so now, though. It’s still something she’s getting used to, but it’s entirely welcomed.

Somewhere, amidst Chloe’s movie day that bleeds into a movie night, Beca’s eyes flutter closed, and she eventually awakens tucked safely against Chloe’s body, a long arm wrapped around her as pale fingers ghost feather lightly over the skin of her bare arm.

“Hey, sleepy head,” Chloe greets softly, gaze moving away from the television screen and down to Beca’s tired eyes as she casually stretches from her slumber. “Feel better for that nap?” Chloe pauses, picking up her phone to check the time, then lets out a small chuckle. “Actually, I don’t know if almost three hours really counts as just a nap.”

“Mm, no, maybe not,” Beca responds lazily, a yawn escaping her lips. She tucks her body up more closely against Chloe’s, curling into her, and Chloe’s arm tightens some almost automatically.

This isn’t the first time they’ve done this, it isn’t the first time they’ve been in this position, and all it does is bring that same thought to the front of Beca’s mind, the one about how they were never just friends. Friends don’t do this, and Beca realizes that now. A part of her almost wishes it hadn’t taken her so long to come to the realization, but she decides not to dwell. Things are how they should be now, how they always should’ve been, and the unwanted, eventful morning can’t change that. Nothing can.

“What time is it?” Beca asks, voice still a little lazy sounding. Her body twists until she can extend an arm to drape over Chloe’s middle, her own fingertips drawing small patterns against the skin of Chloe’s back where her shirt has risen yet again.

“Just after ten,” Chloe says, “I guess you’re probably not tired now though, huh?”

“You guess wrong,” Beca shakes her head, finally forcing herself to sit upright. Chloe watches her, keeps her arm around her, though loosens it to give Beca the freedom to move. It’s like their bodies are just so in sync, so on key with one another. Then again, who is that a surprise to? It’s nothing out of the ordinary.

“You want to go to bed, then?”

“That depends,” Beca glances toward the television. “Are you done with your movie?”

“I wasn’t really watching anything,” Chloe admits, “I just didn’t want to wake you, so I was just letting whatever this is play. It’s okay,” she pauses, eventually moving her arm from around Beca’s small frame, “We can go.”

Beca doesn’t hate living alone. In fact, she honestly kind of likes it. She’s good with her own company, she likes the freedom of being able to work on her own projects and just do her own thing, but she can’t help as she flops down onto her bed, propping herself up with her elbows and glancing periodically toward the open bathroom door where Chloe is brushing her teeth, but to think of how nice it is to have this specific company. If Chloe could stay—if she could _always_ stay—Beca would let her. Without question, Beca would always let her.

She may be tired, but that doesn’t keep the grin from forming right the way across Beca’s lips once Chloe returns from the bathroom and crawls onto the bed, making herself comfortable astride Beca’s lap.

“You good up there?” Beca teases gently, hands moving to settle against Chloe’s thighs. Her fingertips trail along smooth skin, and as Chloe leans down to connect their lips, Beca can’t imagine anything more natural in the world. Her grin has softened into an almost coy smile once they both pull back, and Beca, who eye contact doesn’t generally come entirely naturally to, can’t help how her gaze locks easily with Chloe’s, how she allows those crystal blue eyes to pull her in.

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” Chloe says, hands sliding along her own thighs until she can hook her fingers through Beca’s. Again, they just fit so perfectly, neither one of them even has to think about it. And maybe that’s how this should be, maybe they shouldn’t have to think, they should just do. Something both have spent so much time in the past forcing themselves away from, but now they can, they can just do—they can just _be_.

“Yeah?”

“It’s kind of serious.”

Beca doesn’t know whether to be worried or not, though she ignores the pessimist inside of her and just looks up at Chloe somewhat quizzically, waiting for her to go on. In spite of herself, the corner of her lip twitches upward, because Chloe’s hands have begun to lift her own, until Beca can no longer balance on her elbows, and instead finds herself flat on her back with her hands held up above her head, pinned down against the pillow.

“Seems serious,” Beca teases, glancing up toward their intertwined hands, before bringing her gaze back to Chloe’s face. She notices Chloe’s expression has changed, like it’s softened somehow. Beca notices the way blue eyes scan her face. The air surrounding them has stilled, and she doesn’t know why, but suddenly Beca feels nervous. Her voice comes out in something of a whisper. “Chlo?”

Hands unclasp from around her own, and Beca watches as Chloe hovers over the top of her, watches the way Chloe’s prominent stare drinks her in.

“You know that thing that Jesse said earlier?” Chloe says, voice an impossible mixture of both calm but also somewhat nervous sounding.

Honestly, he hadn’t said much. There really hadn’t been much _to_ say, in fact. But Beca’s mind goes to one distinct part of their brief conversation.

_Do you love her? You can lie to me, say you don’t. But I know you do, Bec. And she loves you, too._

Beca’s gaze drops from Chloe’s eyes and down toward her lips, watching the way her tongue skims over the part between them, before she glances back upward, vision interlocked with Chloe’s once more. Beca doesn’t say anything, she just nods her head gently, just watches the woman above her and silently prays that she can’t hear how hard her heart is pounding against her chest.

“I do,” Chloe whispers, and as sure as she sounds, as positive as Beca can tell she is in what she’s saying, she also doesn’t think she has ever heard Chloe sound so shy before, so vulnerable.

It’s a lot, it’s a big thing to say, and at first, Beca doesn’t know how to respond.

But only because ‘me too’ doesn’t seem like enough.

Instead, Beca just watches her, just studies the way Chloe’s pale cheeks are overtaken by a slight tinge of pink. Beca takes in the light freckles dotted across Chloe’s nose, the way her lips curve and her lashes fan from her lids. And it’s all so familiar, it’s all so Chloe Beale, and God, Beca realizes how stupid she has been in the past, how much time she really has wasted, because this isn’t new, it isn’t some big, surprise revelation. It’s like the sun rising and setting each day, like the way a person ages with each passing moment; it isn’t a choice circumstance, something that either of them can control. It’s an inevitability, it always has been.

The stillness hangs in the air around them a moment longer, cloaks them in its comfort, and Beca is glad for the freedom from Chloe’s hands, glad that she can reach up to cup a pale cheek in her warm palm, and guide Chloe’s face toward her own.

Soft lips brushing against soft lips, Beca lets out a shaky breath, eventually closing the small gap between them. Not before whispering, of course,

“I do, too.”


	10. Three Years Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And maybe friends don’t get that, not all the time. Maybe they don’t all have that same kind of extraordinary luck.
> 
> But Chloe Beale and Beca Mitchell? They did. 
> 
> They do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The main story ended with chapter nine, but I figured I'd give us a quick look into the future to round everything off. What better way than with smut **(chapter rated M)** , fluff and tooth-rotting softness, right?
> 
> I'd also just like to quickly thank you all for your sweet comments and incredible feedback throughout this story, I have thoroughly enjoyed writing it and I'm so appreciative to all of you, so truly, thank you so, so much. I hope it's been as enjoyable for you as it has for me!

“Your walls are not soundproof, Chloe!”

Aubrey’s voice, shrill and a mixture of half annoyed, half amused causes both girls to pause, before the sound of stifled giggling rings from inside of the bathroom. Little do they know, Aubrey is fondly rolling her eyes outside, though of course hurrying back toward the living room where a good majority of the party is congregated.

“Your walls,” Beca imitates in a distracted murmur, pausing to pepper kisses along Chloe’s collarbone, voice low and husked. “Are not…” Her hand slips beneath the fabric of Chloe’s short red dress, fingertips hooking over the waistband of her lace panties, “Soundproof, _Chloe_.”

“Shut up,” Chloe smirks, breathy giggle falling from her painted lips. Her head tilts slightly to the side to allow room for Beca’s parted lips to work against her skin, and it is hard to keep her own hands to herself, especially when Beca is dressed like _that_.

In hindsight, agreeing to host this year’s Halloween party had been kind of a stupid idea. But with all of their belongings packed into boxes, rooms almost emptied, Chloe had insisted that they had the most space, and that they might as well turn their leaving party into a Halloween party considering the time of year it was falling. As usual, Beca had agreed, because when has she _ever_ been able to say no to Chloe Beale?

They’re set to move into their new home—their first _house_ —in just two days' time. Their apartment has to remain in shipshape if they want to get their deposit back, and honestly, thank God for Aubrey. At least she has the good sense to keep an eye on all of their drunk friends while Chloe sits on top of the bathroom counter doing little to help, with Beca lowering to her knees between Chloe's invitingly spread, trembling thighs. Beca messily places open-mouthed kisses along any area of visible skin she can find, and Chloe’s body tingles desperately beneath her touch, craving so much more.

After three years together, they should probably be able to keep their hands to themselves when necessary, but proof enough of the fact that they’re likely never going to leave the honeymoon phase is the scene playing out in their bathroom, while their friends enjoy the Halloween festivities just outside of the door.

Blue eyes stare upward through hooded smokey lids, and Chloe just about melts at the sight before her.

“Have I told you how hot you look tonight?” Chloe says through a shaky exhale, her fingers looping through matted brunette hair. She wonders how many other vampires are currently going down on the devil in the middle of a crowded party, in a bathroom with a door that doesn’t actually lock. Though, Chloe realizes quickly that she doesn’t care; as usual, her focus is entirely on Beca.

“Only about fifty times,” Beca smirks in response, lips pushing hot, open-mouthed kisses against soft, pale skin. Chloe has barely even noticed Beca has already taken off her panties, too caught up in the desperate desire for the woman between her legs, but they lay in a heap on the floor, and a quick glance shows Chloe the way they glisten with the evidence of her sheer arousal.

Chloe doesn’t have much time to do or say anything else, only to let out a pleasured sounding gasp, because Beca’s lips have found their way to the center of her spread legs, full lips wrapping around Chloe’s already swollen clit. Beca’s pointed tongue flickers against the sensitive bud, and Chloe’s head tilts backward as a soft whimper falls from her open mouth, palm flattened against the shiny surface.

“You taste so fucking good,” Beca murmurs against her, words vibrating and causing a shiver right the way up Chloe’s spine.

Beca can’t help but think, as she takes in the taste of the woman before her, feels the way Chloe’s legs are shaking as they hang over her shoulders, of that first time they were in this position. Of course, they were in the bedroom, and Chloe had been the one to go down on Beca first, but Beca had been so desperate to take her turn, to finally taste Chloe Beale, and she had become hooked right away.

“I want your fingers, too,” Chloe mumbles both surely and shakily through her already faster breaths, her own fingers clenching around a clump of brunette hair. Beca knows exactly what she means, of course, but that doesn’t stop her from teasing, from allowing her fingertips to dance along the warm skin of Chloe’s inner thigh rather than sliding them exactly where she knows she wants them. It’s obvious that Chloe tries to whine in complaint, but the feeling of Beca’s teeth grazing gently downward causes her to moan loudly instead, causes her legs to part further and her fingers to clamp down into Beca’s hair.

And then Beca can’t tease anymore, not when Chloe speaks again, words coming out through a desperate hiss.

“Fuck. Please, baby, _fuck me_ ,” Chloe pleads, and they both know she is going to get exactly what she wants, because Beca has the hardest time with denying Chloe of anything in general. But, when it comes down to Chloe taking charge in the bedroom (or bathroom, in this instance)? Well, all hope is lost then.

Persistent ache between her legs, her own walls practically clench at the very idea of just how wet Chloe is, how Beca’s tongue drips with the distinct taste of her girlfriend’s arousal, how badly Chloe _needs_ her. Beca easily slides two pointed fingers inside of her, tips immediately arching to stroke against slick walls, as her tongue laps hungrily at wet, swollen folds.

Chloe had agreed, before they came in here, that she’d be quiet. When they were making out against the wall, parted lips moving desperately against one another’s as Chloe’s knee pushed its way between Beca’s bare legs, rising to rub against her through the fabric of her already damp panties, she’d promised that she’d hold her reactions back. Even when Chloe had pulled her leg away to see her thigh tracked with those first hints of lust seeping through the thin fabric of Beca’s underwear, she’d kept her promise.

But as Chloe comes, as her fingers tighten in Beca’s hair and her body trembles through the feeling of her release, hips moving forward to the point of her practically fucking Beca’s face, there is absolutely nothing quiet about it. And man, with the whole area around her mouth (swollen lips included) wet with her girlfriend’s come, cheeks flushed and glistening beneath the bathroom light, Beca has literally no complaints.

Chloe’s body, now limp as she comes down from her high, continues to tremble as Beca begins to kiss her way back upward, chin streaked with the evidence of Chloe’s intense orgasm. There is a subtly smug (though very well deserved) look on Beca’s face as she presses her swollen lips against Chloe’s, tongue pushing almost lazily through the part in Chloe’s lips, wanting to make sure she tastes exactly what Beca just had. Chloe is still moaning softly into the kiss, evidently still sensitive to every small touch.

It takes Chloe a moment to come down from her euphoric high, to find her strength again. But once she does, there is a look of pure lust in Chloe’s darkened eyes. The desperate aching between Beca’s legs returns as she watches Chloe climb down from the counter with a one track mind and clear purpose to pin her up against the wall, obviously eager to return the favor.

When Chloe makes Beca come, tongue buried deeply inside of her, Beca’s eyes slammed shut and her hand gripping desperately onto the wall to keep herself from literally falling to her knees… Well, Beca is even less quiet than Chloe was.

 

* * *

 

It’s pretty obvious what they’ve been doing as they emerge from the bathroom. Not only do they both look much sweatier than before, much more flustered, but Chloe’s dress is entirely wrinkled, and Beca’s legs shake with the remnants of pleasure still pulsing throughout her body.

(Not to mention there are black lipstick marks right the way up Chloe’s thighs, Beca’s Halloween makeup now severely lacking its prior uniformity.)

Aubrey has all of the Bellas gathered around, red solo cup held out in front of her, and though the two slip as stealthily as possible into the small circle, a few knowing looks and amused glances are sent their way. Beca’s cheeks are overtaken with a soft shade of pink, though Chloe just winks, and both Stacie and Cynthia Rose receive the action with a shared smirk.

“Oh, there our hosts are,” Aubrey says, pointed glare burning into both of them. Chloe responds with a sweet smile, one that pulls another fond eye roll from Aubrey in response.

“Are we missing an Aubrey speech?” Chloe asks, and Beca is silently transported back to three years prior, to their last gathering at the Bellas house right around graduation; the last big ‘Aubrey speech’. God, so many things have changed since then, so many good, positive things.

Firstly, Beca is working her dream job. She has begun to climb her way swiftly through the ranks, her days consumed by music and creation. She is so proud of Chloe, too. After a year of teaching music in an elementary school, Chloe had decided she just wasn’t on the right path, and had made the decision to pursue a veterinary career. It has meant more school, but Beca has been entirely encouraging and supportive the whole way through, and Chloe’s compassion, her dedication, it truly has shone. Honestly, Beca is certain she couldn’t actually be more in awe of Chloe Beale.

On a different scale, _they_ have changed, too. It had taken Beca a little while to come to terms with the fact that they’d wasted time acting like they were nothing more than friends when they could’ve been what they were always supposed to be. Then, only a short amount of time after that to realize that she’d been stupid, because without that foundation, without really having gotten to know Chloe Beale on so many levels, in so many ways, she never would’ve been standing beside her now. With Chloe’s fingers wrapped comfortably around her own, Beca would’ve never been able to say, with utter confidence, that the love of her life is truly her best friend.

And that’s something everybody deserves to feel, Beca thinks as she stands among her friends—her _sisters_ —coming down from the intimate high she has just shared with her girlfriend, with the person she wants to share every moment with, every experience; everyone deserves that timeless romance, to find their soulmate in the one person who fits like a missing puzzle piece from the second they walk into their life.

And maybe friends don’t get that, not all the time. Maybe they don’t all have that same kind of extraordinary luck.

But Chloe Beale and Beca Mitchell? They did.

They do.

 

* * *

 

Thank God they have a day to recover from their Halloween festivities before their move, because despite the fact that neither one had planned to get particularly _wasted_ , they both very much had. There had been sloppy, messy, incredible sex to end their evening, before they had woken up a sticky, tangled mess the next morning. The rest of the day had been spent lounging around their almost empty apartment, sharing lazy kisses and quiet complaints as they rested off their hangovers.

To say that the move today had been exhausting would be an understatement. It is fortunate that their friends are still in town, that they’ve been able to help them out, but Beca has wondered on numerous occasions whether she is somehow dealing with a two-day hangover, because there have been times where she has wanted to give up. To sit on the floor among their boxes, and to go back to it all another day.

But now, as she stands in the doorway between their brand new living room and kitchen, arms folded across her middle and a soft, contented smile displayed on her lips, Beca is thankful for her own perseverance, because the view before her is easily the most rewarding.

It’s not like Chloe is really doing anything much, she’s just standing in front of the counter, most appliances still in their boxes. Of course, the coffee machine was one of the first things to be unpacked, and now Chloe works on brewing a new pot for the two of them to enjoy. It’s the most simple, mundane of tasks, but Beca can’t help the way it makes her think. She thinks about the past, about everything that led them to something as profoundly wonderful as setting up their first real home together, and Beca can say with utter confidence that she has truly never felt so grateful, so filled with adoration.

Staying out of the way, just hovering and watching, becomes too difficult for her, to the point that Beca eventually finds herself gravitating toward Chloe, arms snaking almost possessively around her middle. Chloe’s body relaxes easily into the embrace, her back pressed against Beca’s front, and Beca begins to place small, soft kisses along the visible part of Chloe’s shoulder.

“Hi,” Chloe greets in a hushed tone, small smile on her lips as she glances toward Beca behind her. Chloe lifts an arm above her shoulder, fingers finding their way easily into brunette hair. “Long day today, huh?” Her fingertips move lazily along Beca’s scalp, and Beca’s eyes close as her lips rest against the soft skin of Chloe’s shoulder, a mumbled “Mmhmm,” falling through a slow exhale.

“I’m glad we had help,” Beca murmurs, voice muffled slightly by Chloe’s skin. Her breath is warm against Chloe’s shoulder, it causes a small shiver throughout her as it reaches her neck.

“Me too,” Chloe agrees, body twisting around in Beca’s arms. Beca loosens her hold just slightly, just to give Chloe the room to move, though she tightens her hold again once Chloe is turned all the way toward her. Chloe’s arms instantly rise to drape loosely around Beca’s neck. The tip of Chloe’s nose nudges gently against Beca’s, both amused and entirely in love with the way Beca’s nose wrinkles in response. “I’m glad it’s just us now, though.”

“Oh yeah?” Beca questions, soft lips pressing delicately to Chloe’s chin, though she moves her way upward, toes extending to allow her the height to push a small kiss to Chloe’s lips. “Why’s that?”

“Because I want you to myself,” Chloe responds, a soft smile drawn across her lips. “In fact, if I could keep you to myself always, then I would.”

“Mm. Let me just call my work,” Beca mumbles, lips brushing against Chloe’s. Her words vibrate against Chloe’s lips, still upturned at the corners. “Let them know I’m quitting.”

Chloe responds with a soft giggle, one last kiss pushed delicately against Beca’s lips, before she is pulling slightly back, just to look at her. Chloe studies Beca’s face, takes in every familiar freckle. She notes the way Beca’s eyes, bright and familiar, change shades depending on the lighting. “I’m tired,” Chloe finally says, one arm pulling back from around Beca’s neck to slide her fingers through mousy locks, pushing a chunk softly behind Beca’s ear. “But I’m so excited, too.”

“Excited for what?”

“This.” Chloe doesn’t move, doesn’t point nor motion to anything, she just continues to look at Beca, continues to drink in the breathtaking sight before her. “All of this. With you.”

“New house?”

“New house.”

“New career?”

“New career.”

“Same Beca?”

Chloe’s soft laugh is almost melodic in response, head nodding shortly. Her red curls bounce subtly as they drape over her shoulders. “Yes. Always the same Beca. That’s my favorite part. You’ve always been my Beca, that’s nothing new. Nothing that will ever change.”

“Always?” Beca questions, brow slightly arched, though the small hint of a smile threatening the corner of her lips is an amused one. Beca’s eyes shine with the same awe that Chloe Beale always brings to them.

“Always,” Chloe echoes, arms tightening once more around Beca’s neck. “Ever since that very first day at the activities fair, I saw you and I knew right then that there was something special about you, Beca.”

“Did you know then that we’d be here now? Standing in _our_ house, in _our_ kitchen?” Beca has gotten much better at expressing her feelings, especially when it is just the two of them. There is a soft shade of pink stretching across her cheeks, but it doesn’t stop her, doesn’t make her hold back. Beca’s voice may be a little softer, but she means what she is saying, Chloe knows she does. Her voice softens as she continues, “And that I’d be even more in love with you than I ever even knew was possible?”

“Maybe not right away,” Chloe chuckles quietly, intent gaze never leaving Beca’s. “But somewhere along the way, I started hoping for it. And I knew that friends weren’t supposed to want that, they weren’t supposed to hope that their friend would fall hopelessly in love with them. But I guess that’s why I knew we were never just friends.”

Beca hums quietly, contentedly, as her gaze scans Chloe’s, blue eyes locking with blue. “Do you ever wonder what would’ve happened if we’d figured everything out sooner?” She asks, almost conversationally.

Chloe softly shakes her head in response. “No. I don’t regret anything from the past, I don’t regret how things played out. Because every little thing just made me so sure about you, you know?”

“Sure about what?”

“That I love you,” Chloe says in a soft, sure voice, without missing a beat.

It doesn’t matter how many times they say it, how many times she hears it, Beca is positive that she’ll never tire of those words, never stop wanting to know exactly how Chloe feels about her. They spent so much time in denial, spent so much time trying to be something less than they really were, so now every single moment between them is a precious one. Chloe loves her, and Beca loves Chloe, and that is really all that matters now.

There is a comfortable silence surrounding them as Beca leans in to press her lips delicately to Chloe’s. They’re soft and full, they peck slowly and lazily as Chloe breathes a soft, “I love you.”

“I know you do, Chlo,” Beca responds in the quietest yet surest of voices, lips ghosting lightly against Chloe’s. “I know you do,” she repeats, finally closing the gap between them, “And I love you, too.”

There had been a time when it had been difficult for them to voice those words. They both knew them, they both meant them, but it had been unfamiliar territory, something scary and almost dangerous. But it is the most natural thing in the world now. Like everything between them, everything that has transpired, loving one another is the most natural thing in the world.

And friends don’t get this, Beca thinks as her lips lock in perfect harmony with Chloe’s, her own sheer luck not at all lost on her. They just don’t, friends _don’t_.

No, Beca thinks, _friends don’t_. But they do.


End file.
